


Orion's Belt

by hobiyah



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - College/University, Demisexuality, Epilepsy, Everyone Is Gay, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Roommates, Slow Burn, Surprise Pairing, its a classic fic its got all the tropes!, we needed gyuboosol fic and this is my offering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-22 22:33:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 42,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18536815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobiyah/pseuds/hobiyah
Summary: "Ironically, when telling the story of Seungkwan and Hansol’s relationship, he has to start with Kim Mingyu."orHansol is trying to work towards the life he wants. All too easily, Mingyu and Seungkwan become an important factor.





	Orion's Belt

Ironically, when telling the story of Seungkwan and Hansol’s relationship, he has to start with Kim Mingyu. Mingyu is first thing he sees when he arrives at his new campus accommodation room, all six-foot-one of him, struggling to fold a pair of overalls. They greet each other and introduce themselves, but don’t have much time to talk before Hansol’s family come in, carrying more of his belongings. After that, he doesn’t see Mingyu an awful lot at first. The other boy seems to spend most nights out of their dorm room, not crawling in until late, or not coming back at all until the next day. Hansol quickly learns who he spends his time with when he is graced with some drunken yelling down the corridor on the second Friday night of the school year.

“So this is where you live! This is the first time I’ve been here, you know, Kim Mingyu. Your kitchen is bigger than mine, why do you never invite me over?”

“Shh, Kwannie,” Mingyu says, laughing. He doesn’t sound as wasted as his friend, but Hansol is still a little concerned when there’s a thump against the door.

“Oops!” There’s a torrent of giggles from both voices, and Hansol makes his way over to the door. When he opens it, a body flops onto his carpet- a blonde, round faced boy, who makes no move to get up, with Mingyu leaning over trying to haul him up through his own laughter.

“Sorry- he lost his door key, is it okay if he crashes here?” His voice is drowned out by another round of giggles from the blonde, who drags Mingyu onto his knees so he can sit up and put his arms around Mingyu’s neck, planting wet kisses on his cheek.

“Such a good friend, Mingyu. Oh, but I need to meet Hansol!” He tries to turn around to look at Hansol whilst still clinging onto Mingyu. “Hello, Hansol!”

“Hi,” Hansol says, entertained. Mingyu is red-faced.

“Ah! Handsome roommate!” Seungkwan cheers, reaching out a hand to Hansol vaguely. Hansol isn’t really sure what he’s after, so he grabs it at an angle and shakes it awkwardly. “I’m Seungkwan.”

“Nice to meet you, Seungkwan,” Hansol says through a laugh. Mingyu is still trying to hoist an unhelpful Seungkwan to his feet and onto the mattress.

“Sorry, Hansol,” Mingyu says, sober enough to be bashful at this whole encounter.

“It’s okay, Mingyu. Do you need help? Or some water or anything?”

“Nah, he’ll be out of it soon enough.” Even as he says it, Seungkwan is groaning and sinking into the mattress, prompting Mingyu to try to wrangle his shoes off. “We’ll just go to sleep, don’t worry about us.”

“Okay, sure. Goodnight!” Mingyu is crawling under the sheets beside Seungkwan. Hansol smiles to himself and takes that as a cue to turn off the bedroom light.

 

 

The next morning, Seungkwan is full of apologies and regrets and a sorry hangover, no matter how much Hansol tries to tell him he didn’t mind the interruption last night.  Seungkwan seems to want to prove that he can be a functioning human and holds Hansol in an enthusiastic conversation over breakfast. He has a way of holding a conversation that’s comfortable- skilled at leading the discussion, so Hansol doesn’t feel awkward or quiet, but asks enough questions with genuine interest that somehow Seungkwan gets to know his basic family history and general interests in no time. They’re on slightly different courses—Seungkwan takes Musical Theatre, compared to his own Music Composition—but everyone in a performing arts school can bond over music one way or another. He gets shown some clips of young Mingyu’s YouTube videos that make Seungkwan cackle in glee and draw Mingyu out to the kitchen in protest. That sort of thing binds a person, it seems, because when Mingyu joins them the three slip into the conversation effortlessly, and they stay to talk in the kitchen for hours while other flatmates migrate in and out around them.

Seungkwan declares himself too hungover to do much else that day, but they arrange to go into the city together that weekend, as apparently Mingyu can show them all the best spots. From there, falling into their friendship was the easiest thing Hansol has ever done.

 

-

 

Hansol is laid on his bed, laptop abandoned in front of him as he watches Mingyu pace. Seungkwan is laid on the other bed, rehearsing lines with Mingyu, making Hansol laugh with various overdramatizations of the lines of the love interest character. Neither of them really have a clue what the script is about, but Mingyu knows all his parts perfectly, is mostly pacing out of nerves. He’s asking Seungkwan to repeat sections again and again, and while Seungkwan has generosity, his patience is short.

“You’re perfect already, Hyung. You know it so well,” he says, slumping back onto the pillow. “You’re going to be fine, I swear.”

“We’ll take you out for food when you nail it,” Hansol offers, “so focus on that instead.”

Mingyu looks around, eyes wide in mock shock. “You mean you won’t make me pay at the last minute because I’m the Hyung? Say that again so I can record it for evidence.”

Seungkwan snorts. “Where do you want to go, Hyung? We’ll make it happen.” He throws Mingyu’s own pillow at him. “Not too fancy, though. We’re still students.”

“And I’m not a student? You still make me pay every time!”

“And I still practise your lines with you! We’re even!”

Hansol laughs as Mingyu throws the pillow back at Seungkwan, who leaps from the bed raises his fists as if he’s about to start a fight.

“It doesn’t cost you anything to practise lines with me! My bank account is running dry!”

“And my patience is running dry, Mingyu! But here I am, like a generous friend! Look, we’re stopping Hansol from doing his work. Maybe you should buy us the food after all.”

“I’ll remind you of this when you need start learning lines, Seungkwan. Then the tables will turn!”

 

 

It’s part way through the term and they’re finally in the library, trying to figure out how the hell the numbering system works, when it first hits him. Seungkwan is telling some story about how this boy in his classes, Seokmin, had spent the entire day singing everything he’d said, including the takeaway they’d ordered, and had sent everyone into hysterics with the way he’d drawn out _‘Family sized chicken wings pleaaaase!’._ Seungkwan can’t re-enact it properly, because they’re in the library, he’s just whispering it all and they’re trying to be quiet in their laughter, which just makes everything funnier. Mingyu finds them at that point, Seungkwan on his hands and feet with tears of laughter on his face, Hansol supporting himself on a bookshelf, trying to catch his breath.

“I think I’m friends with crazy people,” Mingyu says, trying to help Seungkwan up, but he completely misses Mingyu’s hand through squinted eyes, which sets him off on another batch of laughter again. Hansol looks at Seungkwan’s face, screwed up in joy, thinks about how nice his laugh would sound if he could be loud, thinks about how optimistic and friendly and driven he is, and sobers up quickly. He’s suddenly aware of the welling feeling in his chest, and no, he can’t be catching feelings now, not when everything had been going so well, not when he’s found the best friends he could hope for at University. Seungkwan is trying to relay the story to Mingyu, but Mingyu is raising his eyebrows at Hansol, who just stares at Seungkwan. A never-ending loop.

 

 

So here he is, two months into term with Christmas deadlines approaching, struggling to focus on anything other than his newfound crisis. He stares at textbooks blankly and scribbles away at notebooks without inspiration. The more he thinks about it, the more he gets warm and happy around Seungkwan; the more he’s aware of his touches; the more he wants to kiss him. One night, when he’s tossing and turning with eyes wide open, Mingyu says into the dark:

“What is it, Hansol?”

“What’s what?” Hansol asks, a little startled. He hadn’t noticed Mingyu paying such close attention to him.

“What’s been bothering you the past few days?”

Hansol just stares into the dark for a few minutes, weighing up the pros and cons of telling Mingyu what’s on his mind. He’d like to think they’re close enough that Mingyu would keep his secret, but he can’t compete with the we’ve-been-friends-since-the-womb history Seungkwan and Mingyu have between them.

“Can you keep a secret?” he asks anyway.

“I am amazing at keeping secrets,” Mingyu responds. Hansol doesn’t find that very reassuring, but on the other hand, Mingyu is probably, unfortunately, the best person to give him advice on this issue. So he puts away all his reservations, and plucks up his courage.

“I think I have feelings for Seungkwan. I keep thinking about asking him on a date, but I’m scared to.”

There’s silence for a few seconds, and Hansol wishes desperately he could see his reaction.

“What are you scared of?” Mingyu eventually asks, carefully.

“You guys are the best friends I could ask for. I’ve never been this close to someone this fast before. I don’t want to mess anything up.”

More silence from Mingyu, though Hansol gets the impression he’s bursting to say something.

“All I’ll say is that you shouldn’t be worried,” he answers cryptically. Hansol’s heart jumps in his chest, and he sits up, looking into the dark of Mingyu’s corner of the room.

“What? Why? Has he said something about me?” Mingyu just giggles to himself, pleased, and ignores his question completely.

“Make sure you do it right, though. He loves romantic gestures and classic, cute dates, you know. Restaurants and pretty walks and shit.” Hansol is hit with the strange impression he’s getting parental permission to date Seungkwan.

“Has he had many dates before?” Mingyu seemed to think his problem wasn’t rejection but rather underperforming, which is a little worrying. He had to admit, Seungkwan sets high standards in every area of life, and it wouldn’t be shocking for that to carry over to his dating life.

“He’s had a few boyfriends, yeah. I was the first one.” He imagines Mingyu’s canine grin as he says that, so proud and teasing.

“Really?” Hansol lets out a surprised little laugh.

“Yeah, but we were like, fourteen, and figuring ourselves out, so. It was a mess. We’re better as friends, I guess.”

Hansol lies back down in his bed, heart lighter and mind clearer than it had been in days. He feels butterflies dance in his stomach as he brainstorms ideas for a first date, and relaxes into the mattress.

“Thanks, Hyung.”

He can hear the smile in his voice when he replies. “Goodnight, Hansol.”

 

-

 

Seungkwan squeals and brings him into a crushing hug and says _Yes of course, Hansol!_ So their first date is at the ice rink, and they hold hands and Hansol falls a lot and Seungkwan gives him a peck on the lips at the end of it. Hansol doesn’t really know what to do with himself, but Seungkwan giggles at him and leads him down the street to a late-night café Mingyu had taken them to the week before. They get hot chocolate and Seungkwan tells him it’s an amazing first date, so Hansol blushes and feels his heart swell up again, happy he’s done well despite knowing he was useless on the ice.

“I think this is actually the first time we’ve been somewhere together, you know. Without Mingyu.”

“It is,” Hansol confirms. It was the first thing he’d noticed as the date began. Not in a bad way; it was just usually the three of them together, when they could help it. “It was about time, though. I’ve heard Mingyu snore and pee and sing in the shower, I think we’re intimate enough already.”

Seungkwan laughs, loud and full and unapologetic. Hansol can’t look away, wants to watch him in whatever he does. “He doesn’t believe me that he snores! I’m glad you’re on my side.” He reaches out to take Hansol’s hand over the table, playing with his fingers gently. “He told me you asked him for dating advice though.” He smirks, and Hansol blushes a little.

“Dating advice is an exaggeration!” Hansol defends. “I was just nervous. I didn’t want to make anything weird. I don’t know.”

Seungkwan laughs, shaking his head. “It’s okay. I’m really glad you asked me out. Even before I met you, Mingyu told me you were my type.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. I would’ve asked you first, but my gaydar was struggling to get a read on you.”

“Maybe because I’m bi?”

“Yeah, that’s probably it.” Seungkwan shrugs. “Besides, Mingyu told you that he and I have dated before, right? So if it doesn’t go well after this, you’ll just have to date Mingyu then break up with him, then we can all be equal.”

He almost snorts out his drink. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“Don’t doubt me, Hansol. I’m full of genius ideas.” He winks at Hansol and takes another sip of his hot chocolate, trying to bite one of the marshmallows out of the mug.

“Does this mean you want to go on another date?” Hansol asks, tentative. Seungkwan narrows his eyes at him.

“You think I’m stupid enough to say no? I would be a fool to reject a guy like you, Hansol Vernon Chwe.” He lifts his hand to wipe some cream from the corner of Hansol’s mouth. “You’re too cute.”

Hansol beams, lifts his mug to his face again, shyly. Seungkwan watches him with gentle eyes.

 

-

 

Just as Seungkwan and Mingyu had promised, things stayed much the same when the two began a relationship: Seungkwan’s tendency for physical affection meant there was no real difference in their behaviour when they would hang out as a three. Seungkwan would hold their hands and give out cuddles indiscriminately and sometimes stay the night in his bed instead of Mingyu’s, who would tease them until Seungkwan started talking about Mingyu’s dating history, and they would have brunch the next day as a three. It was Hansol and Seungkwan and Mingyu, or sometimes just two of them, but that was fine.

What isn’t fine is the first time he witnesses one of Mingyu’s seizures, he’s completely useless.

Mingyu had been in a strange mood all day: tired and quiet and reclusive. It was when he refused to go to his classes that Hansol thought something was seriously wrong, though—Mingyu was a good student, and unlikely to skip out just because he was a little under the weather.

“Do you need anything before I go?” he asks, pulling on his shoes.

“No.” Mingyu answers morosely. Then, after a few seconds, “Just bring Seungkwan back after your classes.”

“Sure,” he answers easily. That was usually their routine on a Wednesday, anyway. “See you.” He shoots a text to Seungkwan, and heads off to his class.

When he looks back on that day, he’s glad he had the foresight to text Seungkwan, because when he comes back to his room Mingyu is in the middle of shaking and flailing on the floor, Seungkwan kneeled a small difference away from him and talking calmly. Hansol freezes in the doorframe, completely taken aback.

“Come in Hansol. Sit down.” Seungkwan says, in the same soothing tone. “Actually, toss me your jacket.” Hansol hastily complies, dropping his bag and taking off the jacket. Seungkwan takes it from him and places it under Mingyu’s head carefully but efficiently.

“Should I—I should go and get the nurse?” Hansol asks in a strangled voice, unable to take his eyes from Mingyu. Anxiety is crawling at his chest, and he wonders why Seungkwan is so calm when Mingyu looks so sick.

“It’s okay. I’m more familiar with Mingyu’s seizures than she is. He’ll be fine in a minute.” He gestures for Hansol to shut the door and come and sit on his bed. Sure enough a minute later the shakes have reduced to twitching arms and trembling legs, and though Mingyu still doesn’t look quite present, it’s a lot easier to see. Seungkwan doesn’t stop talking gently the whole time and checking his phone regularly— Hansol realises he’s keeping track of the time.

“He hasn’t told you anything about them has he?” he asks Hansol, keeping his eyes on Mingyu.

Hansol shakes his head. “I had no idea. Does he get them a lot? How did you get here before me? I wouldn’t have left if I’d have known…”

“I skipped class. He can usually tell when they’re coming.” Mingyu’s shakes have mostly stopped, but there’s a dark stain on his trousers and spit streaking his chin. He’s whimpering a little, not quite aware of his surroundings, but coming back to himself. “Can you get a change of clothes out for him, please?” Hansol leaps into action, heading for Mingyu’s wardrobe, grabbing sweatpants and underwear.

“Seungkwan…” Mingyu groans out, huffing out quick breaths.

“I’m here.” Seungkwan says, in that amazingly soft voice. “So is Hansol. Is that okay?”

Mingyu just looks up at Seungkwan for a moment, blinking heavily. He makes a noise of assent, and Hansol comes to kneel next to him too.

“C’mon, let’s get you changed.” Seungkwan says. Between the three of them, they manage to drag the tight jeans from his legs, Seungkwan efficient in undoing Mingyu’s belt and pulling down his jeans and boxers. Hansol wonders how many times he’s taken care of Mingyu like this.

Mingyu mostly rests against Seungkwan’s lap sleepily, and Seungkwan gets Hansol to help drag him onto his bed. Seungkwan wipes at his chin gently with a towel and pulls off his sweaty shirt. Mingyu is conscious but only just, allowing Seungkwan to settle him into bed as he drops off to sleep.

They watch Mingyu sleep for a minute before Seungkwan leads Hansol to sit on his own bed gently. “You okay? You’re more freaked out than he is, babe.”

Hansol nods, clutching at his own arm. “Yeah, I’m fine. It was just unexpected. Why does he get them?”

Seungkwan sighs. “He has epilepsy. Has ever since we were kids. He should’ve told you what to expect. It’s nothing to do with you, he’s just embarrassed about it. But no harm done, I suppose, you’re both fine.”

“Do they usually just pass like that?”

“You only have to call an ambulance if the seizure lasts more than five minutes, or if he hurts himself on something. His usually last around three minutes.” Seungkwan leans back on Hansol’s bed, more subdued than usual. “I wish he’d told you it was coming this morning so he wasn’t left alone. Idiot.”

“To be fair, I probably would’ve freaked him out more.” Hansol admits. Seungkwan gives him a wry smile.

“Well, next time you won’t, now that you know what to do. Make sure he can’t hurt himself, watch the clock, and be a helpful presence. That’s all. Easy peasy.”

“Yeah. Okay.” He thinks he might write that down somewhere to memorise.

“That’s why he’s living on campus even though he’s a second year, you know. He couldn’t find anyone to live with off campus, but he got priority here again because he’s medically required to have a roommate. We tried to get him put with me, actually, but administration were adamant about their randomisation policy. I’m glad for it now, obviously, because otherwise we wouldn’t have met you.” He smiles and leans into Hansol.

“I didn’t even realise he was a second year.” Maybe this is what everyone means when they say he doesn’t pay attention.

Seungkwan leans back again and lets out a surprised laugh. “You didn’t? Yeah, he’s in the year above us.”

“Ahh, that’s why he’s our Hyung!” Everything is clicking into place now, and Seungkwan shoots him a disbelieving look.

“You’re really something, Hansollie. Yeah, that’s why.” Seungkwan shakes his head and lays down on Hansol’s bed. “You want to order food?”

“Yeah. You deserve it, I think.”

Seungkwan smiles but shakes his head. “It’s the least I can do for him. He means the world to me.” He brings Hansol down into a quick kiss. “You both do.”

 

 

Mingyu wakes up a few hours later, exhausted and hungry and quiet. Seungkwan annoys him until he sits himself upright enough to eat, shovelling the leftover Chinese into his mouth so fast Hansol is amazed he doesn’t choke.

“How’re you feeling?” Seungkwan asks, stroking his hair away from his face affectionately.

“Okay. Tired,” Mingyu mumbles.

“Then go back to sleep after you’ve eaten. We’ll stick around.”

Mingyu eyes Hansol warily while Seungkwan speaks, but looks down into his food when he says, “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologise,” Hansol says firmly. “It’s okay. Just give me a heads-up next time.” He smiles at Mingyu encouragingly, but Mingyu only nods and puts the empty takeaway container on his bedside table, lying down again. Hansol’s smile dims.

“Why didn’t you tell him anything?” Seungkwan asks, reprimanding in the gentlest way he can.

Mingyu shrugs sluggish and resigned. “Thought the nurse would tell him.”

Seungkwan scoffs at him while continuing to stroke his hair. “Yeah, okay, big guy.”

A few minutes later Mingyu is asleep again, so Seungkwan comes over and pushes Hansol down onto the bed. “Time for bed, for all of us.” Hansol lets himself go down, lets Seungkwan sling a leg over him and sigh into his ear. “It’ll be a better day tomorrow.”

 

-

 

It’s a no-brainer that they want to share an apartment together the next school year. Finding one isn’t a problem; they have the advantage of looking for two rooms rather than three, his and Seungkwan’s families chip in financially, and Mingyu works part time anyway. The main hurdle to overcome is that of Hansol’s parents, who want to meet Seungkwan before they support their son sharing a room with his new boyfriend. Or rather, this is a perceived hurdle to Seungkwan. Hansol knows they’ll love him. Still, no matter how much Hansol tries to reassure him, Seungkwan gets his opinion on at least a dozen different outfits and picks up an English phrase book the week before they’re due to meet.

“Seungkwan, I don’t think you’re about to seal the deal by asking for the time in English. Just be yourself. I promise they’ll love you.”

“If I can’t communicate well, Hansol, then I at least need to make a good impression with how I look, you see?” He holds up two shirts with slightly different patterns. “Now, which one?”

Hansol rolls his eyes and gestures to the one on the right.

“What about shoes? I don’t think my converse are clean enough,” Mingyu muses from the other side of the room.

“Hey! You’re just as bad as him! Can’t you guys take my word for it?”

“Absolutely not,” Seungkwan says, experimenting with rolling up the sleeves on one of the shirts. “You wanted us to take the apartment that had no windows, Hansol. Not a single window! We would’ve been cut off from the outside world, deprived of sunlight, slowly becoming hermits and never knowing what the weather was like before putting an outfit together.” Seungkwan shudders. “I’m sorry to say I’ve had to take every opinion you’ve had since then with a very strong pinch of salt.”

 

 

The meeting goes fine, of course. His family come to the city to see him in the day and take Seungkwan and Mingyu out for a meal in the evening. They fall into conversation surprisingly easily, considering the language barrier between half of the table—Seungkwan gets on well with Hansol’s younger sister, while Mingyu and his Dad are heartily discussing photography. Hansol catches up with his Mom, occasionally translating bits of the other conversations for her. There’s no real need, as she’s charmed by Seungkwan’s energy alone (as he knew she would be) and approves of the relationship then and there. He can tell she’s excited for him, and wonders how long she’d been waiting for Hansol to come home with someone. Since he’d come out, maybe, over five years ago. He’s brought out of this thought when she tries to give him The Talk over their meal, right in front of Seungkwan. He panics and quickly reassures her that he’s very safe and responsible, hoping Seungkwan hasn’t caught on to what’s happening. He probably has, unfortunately, because Sofia has started giggling into her food.

“He seems very good for you, Hansol,” his dad says when he’s got Hansol in a hug, everyone saying their goodbyes for the night. “They’re both fine young gentlemen.”

“Thanks, dad.” He feels a little choked up. His parents have always known how hard it’s been for him to have friends he could connect with, people who were genuinely friendly with him for more than superficial reasons. Despite the nonchalance he’d shown to Mingyu and Seungkwan, he had been nervous for their approval of Hansol’s first ever boyfriend. He was confident that they would like Seungkwan, but it was nonetheless pretty early on for them to be deciding to live together, so he’s truly grateful for their approval. Mingyu’s presence in the deal is maybe what helps. “We’ll put the deposit down on the apartment tonight, then.”

“We’ll be back at the end of the year to help you move in,” he says, patting Hansol’s shoulder gently. “Keep them close, Hansol.”

“I will.” Hansol smiles and gives Sofia a hug goodbye too before they get in the car and pull away. As soon as the car is around the corner, Seungkwan pounces on him.

“Well? What did they say?”

“That we should contact the landlord soon if we want to take the apartment.” Hansol smiles as Seungkwan cheers and puts his hands together, as if thanking some deity for the basic kindness his parents had shown.

“Yeah, but what did they say about us?” says Mingyu.

“That means they approve, idiot!” Seungkwan says, and Hansol laughs at them both. A smile grows on Mingyu’s face.

“We’re going to be roommates!”

“We’re already roommates!” Hansol rebuts, and Mingyu pulls a face.

“You know what I mean! Without Chan yelling at us from across the hall when Seungkwan is singing late at night.”

“Ah, we won’t get rid of Lee Chan that easily,” Seungkwan says. “He’s moving into the same apartment building with some of his friends from the Dance department. One of them is my roommate, actually, Minghao.”

“So it’ll be exactly the same, basically,” Hansol remarks, and Mingyu pouts.

“Yeah, but at least we’re now parentally approved.”

“I’m so glad we’re parentally approved,” Seungkwan agrees.

“Me too,” Hansol says, taking Seungkwan’s hand in his left and Mingyu’s in his right, swinging them in delight and humming happily as they walk down the road together. They both laugh at his glee, and Seungkwan starts skipping along, dragging the other two boys with him.

 

-

 

The rest of the school year goes by without other major incidents—only karaoke nights with friends, laughs with Mingyu, cuddles with Seungkwan. He’s glad for it.

They all finish the year with good grades and decide to celebrate with a day out together. Hansol is desperate to go to a theme park, but the tickets are expensive, so they compromise by rounding up enough friends to get the group pass, which works out cheaper, and before he knows it he’s entering the park gates with twelve other excitable students. Well, mostly students. Three of Mingyu’s graduated friends have joined them, and they’re delighted to learn Seungkwan and Hansol are a couple.

“God, it’s good to have some other gays around,” is the first thing Jeonghan says after introductions.

“I don’t think we have a single straight friend, Jeonghan,” Seungcheol says beside him. “Stop being so dramatic.”

“I’m just showing my appreciation!” Jeonghan says.

“For what? Their gayness?” Joshua snorts.

“Always a good personality trait,” Chan says from ahead of them.

“Alright then, gays,” Jihoon says, and Jun sniggers, “we’re headed to the big rides first, at the request of Minghao. Any weaklings, please split off now.”

Seokmin looks apprehensive, but Seungkwan grabs him clutches onto his arm. “If I’m going down, you’re coming with me, buddy.” So, when they get to the front of the queue for the huge rollercoaster with countless loops and Seungkwan starts twitching, Hansol seats him firmly next to Seokmin in the carriage. Seungkwan looks up at him with betrayal.

“You’re going down together, remember! Have fun!” Seungkwan starts cursing Hansol out creatively as Seokmin buries his face in the rollercoaster straps, but then their carriage shoots off out of the building, leaving echoes of their screams behind instead. Hansol and Mingyu both laugh in their wake, but Mingyu sobers up quickly when the next carriage trundles along.

“C’mon! You’ll be fine, Hyung.” Hansol pushes Mingyu down into the seat next to him and the attendants strap them in, Soonyoung and Seungcheol chattering nervously as they sit in the seats behind them. Mingyu just whines pitifully, so Hansol grabs his hand when the carriage starts sliding forwards. Mingyu clings onto him at first, then almost crushes his hand when the ride shoots off onto the track, though Hansol can hear him yelling happily.

When they climb off the ride, Seungkwan and Seokmin are standing at the exit with the rest of the group, who are talking about heading to the haunted house ride. Seokmin looks dazed, and Seungkwan noticeably ruffled, but they’re both smiling and laughing with each other. On arrival at the next attraction, Seungkwan announces that he’s sitting next to Mingyu this time. Hansol scoffs.

“What, so you can pass out on each other?”

“We don’t need a knight in shining armour, Hansol! Us cowards have to stick together!”

“You’re going to have to go with the knight on this one, Kwan,” Mingyu says, pointing to the warning sign outside. “Strobe light effects. I can’t go on this one.” He shrugs a little self-consciously. “I’ll wait in a café or something.”

“Don’t be silly, we don’t need to go on. Let’s go somewhere else.”

“No, go on the ride if you want to. It’s fine, Kwannie.”

“You’re more important than the ride, Mingyu—” Seungkwan starts hotly, but before the whole group can be witness to their infamous bickering, Seokmin interrupts them.

“It’s okay, Mingyu, I don’t want to go on this anyway.” He sounds relieved to have an out. “Do you want to go back to the carousel with me?” Mingyu allows a small smile to cross his face.

“Sure! We’ll come back here for you guys afterwards, okay?” He says to the group, and quickly walks away with Seokmin before Seungkwan can argue with him. Wonwoo waves after them half-heartedly.

“Idiot,” Seungkwan mutters under his breath as they line up.

“It’s okay. You compromised. That’s a sign of a healthy relationship, you know,” Hansol says, leaning on the railing next to Seungkwan.

“I wish he wouldn’t get so defensive about it though,” he pouts.

“And he probably wishes you weren’t so…” Seungkwan glares at him, “overly accommodating towards him. Maybe we should have Seokmin find a middle ground between all your arguments.”

“Seokmin is an angel and too good for us all,” Seungkwan declares. “It would be criminal of us to limit his angel duties like that.”

 

 

The ride is better than expected, so Seungkwan is smiling again at the end, laughing at their photo and buying the keyring version. They find Mingyu and Seokmin in the gift shop playing with the kid’s masks on sale there. The group reconvenes and decides to head for lunch. There’s some disagreement over where to eat, but eventually a vote puts them in an Italian place.

“So what’s the deal with you three?” Joshua asks him in English over their pasta dishes. He’d been delighted to find out Hansol spoke English natively, and had been slipping between languages all day.

“What?” Hansol asks through a mouthful of spaghetti, confused.

“You said in the queue that Seungkwan and Mingyu were in a healthy relationship, but I thought you were dating Seungkwan.” He slurps up some linguine. “Are you both dating him?”

“Oh, no! I was joking. We’re all really close,” Hansol replies, still somewhat confused. “How could we both be dating him?”

“Oh, you know. Some people do that sort of thing,” Josh says casually, sipping at his drink. “So I was just wondering. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Hansol says, bemused. This was not a conversation he was expecting, and unnerves him a little. He switches back to Korean. “Are Jeonghan and Seungcheol dating?”

Mingyu had said two of his older friends were dating, and Hansol had been trying to figure out which two all day. He’d been leaning towards Seungcheol and Joshua, but now Seungcheol is sitting very close to Jeonghan at the other end of the table. Joshua is laughing at him, though, which makes him think he made the wrong choice.

“Jeonghan and I are, actually.” Yeah, he couldn’t have been more wrong.

Hansol laughs too, puts a hand over his mouth. “Sorry, oh my God.”

“I guess we’re all really close too,” Joshua says, with a glint in his eye.

 

-

 

The next day, his parents come to town to help the three of them move their belongings to the new flat. They go straight from there to the airport, where the three of them are headed to Seungkwan and Mingyu’s hometown of Jeju, and Hansol’s home for the next week or so. Hansol is approaching the trip like he approaches everything in life: a new opportunity for new experiences. He’s excited to meet the family he’s talked to over the phone with Seungkwan, excited to see the hometown his boyfriend is so proud of, excited to spend a bit of extra time with his best friends before the long summer. It would be a lie, however, to say he’s not nervous: in the same way he was excited for Seungkwan to meet his own parents, there’s the pressure of knowing this is important, that it will matter in the long run. He’s quiet the whole plane ride over, while Mingyu enthuses over the places he wants to go back to and Seungkwan gushes about Mingyu’s little sister. Seungkwan is holding his hand and gently trying to include Hansol in conversation where he can, though, so it doesn’t go unnoticed.

Seungkwan’s mother is there to pick them up when they arrive, holds Seungkwan in a long tight hug before moving on to hug and fuss over Hansol, asking what he eats and saying,

“You know how to pick taller men, Seungkwannie,” before moving onto Mingyu and giving him a hug too.

“It’s not an active choice, Ma, I can’t help my short genes,” he says cheekily. His Ma scoffs in and mutters in the same way Seungkwan does when he’s being teased, and it makes Hansol smile.

Mingyu lives only a few streets away from Seungkwan, so they drop him off first and he promises to bring his family around tomorrow.

“What’s happening tomorrow?” he asks as Mingyu disappears into his house, dark and unwelcoming.

“Ma wants to have a meal, right?” Seungkwan leans forward to ask her. “Is it just us and the Kims?”

Seungkwan’s Ma takes the car around the corner and up the next hill. “Your sister is flying in tomorrow morning too, so we’ve invited a few family members to come and see you both...”

“Ma! Are you trying to scare my boyfriend away?” Seungkwan asks. “How many family members?”

“Just a few, baby, we thought we might as well get together while my kids are all here!” The car comes to a stop. “Let’s go in and get you boys to bed, okay?” She gets out of the car hurriedly and shuts the door behind her. Seungkwan looks at the shut door, shaking his head, then turns to look over at Hansol.

“This isn’t what I would’ve chosen for your first day here, but don’t worry about it, okay? My family are nice! I’ll protect you from the overbearing ones.” His face is half lit from the streetlight outside, and Hansol wishes he could stay in this car, just him and his boyfriend and the sights of Jeju and no scary family meetings to do. Seungkwan leans over to kiss his cheek before getting out of the car to help his Ma with the bags. “Just be yourself. You’re pretty enough that your first impression will be good no matter what.”

They head inside and Hansol greets the other sister briefly before he gets hustled into the bathroom to wash up with Seungkwan. His mother has set up a floor mattress in Seungkwan’s room beside the single bed, and he flops onto it after putting his bag down.

The lights have been off for over an hour when Seungkwan whispers into the dark.

“Hansol.”

“Seungkwan.”

“Why do you have to move every five seconds?”

“Sorry.”

“Are you nervous?”

He had been nervous on the plane. Now, he could feel the anxiety creeping in, clawing at his mind with what-ifs and negative thoughts. “A bit, yeah.”

“You were the one telling me not to be nervous a few months ago, Hansol,” Seungkwan points out.

“You weren’t meeting my whole extended family at the time. Not that they wouldn’t have loved you too, but—”

“Well exactly. My family will be the same, mostly.”

Hansol’s insides squirm a little. “Mostly?”

“We’ll stay away from the old bigots and the annoying kids. I can navigate my family members like I can navigate the Hallasan hike. Come up here.” He hears Seungkwan patting the mattress.

“I shouldn’t. I don’t want to disrespect your Ma.”

“I’ll just shove you back onto the floor again if she comes in. C’mon.” He reaches down and tugs on Hansol’s pyjama shirt. Hansol smiles despite himself and crawls up into the bed, wrapping an arm around Seungkwan, who pulls him close on the single bed and kisses him. He can’t see well in the mostly dark room, so it ends up being a kiss to his eyelid, making Hansol giggle softly. “Now go to sleep.”

“Okay,” he whispers, feeling the small comfort of having Seungkwan near him ease him into a state of somewhat calm, listening to his breaths in the dark and basking in the feeling where their skin touches.

 

 

Despite being up at the crack of dawn to start on the food, Seungkwan’s Ma greets them both with a lot of enthusiasm and a big breakfast. Though she means well, it brings the anxiety surging back up: it’s a reminder that, while he loves Seungkwan’s energy and bright enthusiasm, he’s about to be surrounded by a whole family’s worth of it, and he can barely keep up with Seungkwan on a good day. He’s not great with words, especially when the focus is on him, and though his Ma called it a ‘family get-together’, they all know it’s (at least partially) a ‘gawk-at-Seungkwan’s-new-boyfriend’ event.

Seungkwan’s trying to get Mingyu to answer the phone, but he must still be sleeping because it keeps going to voicemail. “What is he good for if he doesn’t answer his phone?” he tuts. “Go get ready, baby, Aunt Sooji is always like, an hour early to everything.”

Sure enough, he hears a car pulling up as he’s stepping out of the shower and Seungkwan is jumping in.

“Just wait in my room, I’ll be super quick,” he says, pushing Hansol out of the bathroom in just his towel. He tries to run down the hallway before anyone turns the corner to see him, but his plan is foiled by an older woman coming down the corridor from the main room.

“Hello! You must be Hansol!” Hansol clutches the edge of the towel with one hand and shoves a hand out before she can hug him while he’s still dripping water onto the floor.

“Yeah, that’s me,” he says, breathless. She shakes his hand happily.

“Oh, I’ll let you pull some clothes on, darling, I was just going to the bathroom. It’s a long drive across Jeju, you know.” She chuckles and shuffles on down the corridor. He ducks into the bedroom and shuts the door firmly behind him as he hears Seungkwan scream in surprise from down the hallway.

The day is off to a good start, then.

 

 

When Mingyu arrives Seungkwan has time to reprimand him for not answering his calls before going to greet the ever-expanding collection family members who are squeezing into the Boo household, but doesn’t have time to explain that Hansol has already had to hold a few conversations with cousins and uncles and random family friends while Seungkwan was pulled elsewhere, and is thus on edge. Mingyu can probably tell, though, because he sticks as close to him as possible, and intercepts any awkward questions along with Seungkwan. He’s mostly left with the easy stuff, like yeah-I-love-University and the I-was-born-in-New-York story.

The day does improve after the bathroom incident, though. Seungkwan’s family are as nice as he promised, and his Ma’s food is amazing. His Dad arrives halfway through the day, though he leaves a few hours later, quiet and out of place in a room of what Hansol assumes is mostly Ma’s extended family. He’s nice, though, amiable enough to make up for Seungkwan’s grandmother who keeps not-so-subtly remarking on the girls she knows in the area who are around Seungkwan’s age. There’s a drunk auntie who gets the wrong end of the stick and starts shouting about how happy she is Mingyu and Seungkwan are back together again, probably because Mingyu is feeding Seungkwan bites of hotteok. They decide to take a breather at that point, Seungkwan wrapping his arm around Hansol’s waist pointedly as he leads them outside.

“I swear Grandma isn’t always like that,” Seungkwan sighs. “She’s been adjusting to the gay thing ever since I announced I was in love with Mingyu, though.”

“She’s taking Hansol a lot better than she did me,” Mingyu points out. “She went on a rant about the beauty of childbirth when she first heard about us.”

“When you were fourteen?” Hansol asks, dumbfounded.

“I was thirteen. It was madness,” Seungkwan answers. “Ma will kill me if we sneak off now, but let’s just power through the rest of the day, okay? I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.” He cups Hansol’s face in his hands, squishing his cheeks a little to make him smile.

 

 

Seungkwan makes good on his promise and takes them both hiking the next day. The day is perfect: rays of sunlight makes choppy waves twinkle as they take a coastal walk through the green pathways of Jeju. Hansol is glad he’d slept a lot better the night before, because it’s tough going up some of the slopes. Seungkwan holds his hand to guide him through the patches of dense greenery, and Hansol does the same for Mingyu when he starts complaining about carrying the picnic. It’s worth the effort in the end, for the vast ocean view he’s afforded and the way Seungkwan cheers and holds his arms out as if he wants to embrace the whole island, hold it close and confess his love. He settles instead for one arm around Hansol’s waist and patting Mingyu’s head that pokes over his shoulder.

Despite Seungkwan’s reverence, Mingyu starts setting up the picnic after barely a glance, and it makes Hansol think about how often the two of them have probably been here before him. Wonders what it means that they can share it with a boy they’ve known less than a year; that he can come here, into their space, without intruding, as if he’s always been a part of their lives. Sometimes he’s overwhelmed by it all; by how lucky he’d been to be given Mingyu as a roommate, to make Seungkwan as a friend.

“Your Ma makes amazing sandwiches,” Mingyu says through a mouthful of food.

“Hey! Why would you start without us!” Seungkwan squawks, spinning away from the sea view and stomping over to the picnic blanket.

“You made me carry the food the whole way up here, you know.” As if they could forget from the dozen times he’d said it walking up the hill. Hansol had offered to carry it instead at one point, but both Mingyu and Seungkwan had resisted, so he’d chalked it up to one of those things they love to bicker about.

“That doesn’t make you forget basic decency, does it?” Seungkwan asks, grabbing the rest of the food out of the bag. “Here, babe, this is yours.” Hansol thanks him and takes the sandwiches, lets them continue with an easy back-and-forth while he watches the sea move and glisten in the light. He hadn’t realised that he’d been holding so much tension in his body up until now. With his school work done until the next year and meeting Seungkwan’s family a (more or less) success, he’s finally managed to let go of the stress and anxiety that had been weighing on him without him even knowing it. Up here, lying on soft grass with only the sound of his best friends and the birds for company, he feels like he could stay forever.

 

-

 

After the Jeju trip, summer goes by in a blur of part-time jobs, babysitting Sofia and seeing his own family. He calls Seungkwan a lot, and by proxy often Mingyu too, messages them both every day. Seungkwan whines that he misses him and Mingyu tries to make plans for the next year and they both try not to seem like they’re having fun without him, but they both have a tendency to run their mouths about every detail of their day. Hansol’s a little jealous, but mostly longing, and represses something that feels like homesickness.

It feels at once like forever and no time at all before he’s stood in their new flat, putting away belongings and waiting for the other two to arrive from the airport. He’s jumpy, anxious to see them again, but undeniably excited. He’s also waiting on the delivery of a new bed and mattress, and in the end both the boys and the delivery turn up at the same time, causing a bit of a confusion as Seungkwan goes to leap on Hansol while he’s trying to lead the delivery men into the building, Mingyu struggling to get all the luggage out of the taxi behind them.

An hour later, after happy reunions and apologies to the uncomfortable delivery men, they’re sat in the bigger bedroom trying to figure out how to assemble the new double bed. Hansol is studying the instructions intensely while Mingyu is putting in a worrying amount of aggression trying to slot two bars of metal together.

“The landlord was happy with two of us sleeping in one room, so shouldn’t she also be the one to organise things like the beds?” Seungkwan whines. “Can’t we complain or something?”

“We’d better not. I’m pretty sure allowing a couple to sleep in one room is against the student lettings policy,” Hansol says vaguely, switching over to the English side of the instructions in case they’re any clearer. “They might not have even realised we were a couple, to be honest.” He puts down the instructions and starts trying to organise the pieces as the diagram shows, but Seungkwan swipes the paper away again within seconds.

“We could just sleep on the floor and forget the hassle.” He pulls a face at the instructions sheet.

“I’ve got half of it done already! Look!” Mingyu gestures to where he has exactly three assembled sections of the bed ready. Seungkwan shoots him a look, gesturing at the hundred other pieces spread over the floor.

It takes them most of the day and all of Seungkwan’s patience, but they get it built mostly through Mingyu’s determination and Hansol’s methodical work. When it’s done, mattress and sheets and all, they all stand and look at it for a while as if it’s a work of art.

“Yours is already assembled, right?” Seungkwan peers at Mingyu apprehensively.

“Yeah,” he responds, distantly. He’s staring at the bed like it’s told him something profound, or maybe insulted his mother.

“Thank God. Let’s order food, please, flights and impossible beds are exhausting.”

Hansol latches onto Seungkwan and they waddle out of the room as a conjoined, four legged being, Mingyu following them a minute later.

 

 

They adjust quickly; the biggest difference to before is that Mingyu disappears into another room to sleep now. It’s not so noticeable when they still stay up late together, still eat together, still study together.

Mingyu soon becomes bogged down under final year work, though, which they do their best to accommodate for. Seungkwan spends a lot of time running his lines with him, and Hansol does his best to cook meals for the three of them as often as he can. The stress leads to a seizure about two months into term, when Seungkwan is out for the whole day in rehearsals, leaving Hansol to apply the knowledge he’d learned from his boyfriend and the reading he’d done since last year.

“You’re going to be okay, Mingyu,” he says, trying not to let anxiety bleed into his voice. He’s checking the clock every five seconds, trying to keep track of Mingyu and the time and their surroundings all at once. Mingyu had said he never really remember his seizures, but if he can get comfort from Hansol right now, he’ll damn well put all his effort in. “Seungkwan will be back soon, so he’ll fuss and we can all cuddle, and you’ll be fine again.” He’s trying to comfort himself just as much, to be honest: it’s terrifying, seeing Mingyu jerk on the floor, eyes rolled back into his head, struggling.

When Mingyu comes out of it, three minutes and seventeen seconds later, Hansol sits with him for a while and waits for him to become a bit more aware. His mouth is bleeding where he’s bitten into it, spit and blood running out the side of his mouth, and Hansol uses the corner of his shirt to wipe it away. His trousers are soiled, so he needs a change of clothes, but they’re sat at the other side of the apartment from Mingyu’s room, so there’s a difficult walk (Hansol mostly carries him) across the flat before Mingyu can pass out on his bed. Hansol works diligently, getting him into fresh clothes and under the covers, using gentle touches. When he’s done he thinks the other boy is asleep, but just as he’s about to leave he hears Mingyu croak out,

“Stay.” His voice is hoarse and his eyes are most of the way closed already, but Hansol crosses the room without a thought and climbs into the bed. Mingyu wraps an arm around him and rests his head on Hansol’s chest, his even breaths warming a patch on his shirt as he drifts into sleep. Hansol holds him close for the rest of the evening.

Seungkwan finds them like that an hour later, and Hansol explains in whispers what happened. Seungkwan makes Mingyu call the University in the morning, and he gets an extension on his deadline as well as a weekly appointment with the nurse. He’s quiet and withdrawn most of the day afterwards, but they don’t take it personally.

Seungkwan has deadlines of his own and starts a part-time barista job that piles onto his stress, making him drained and testy, which Hansol quickly learns leads to him being handsier and more daring when they make out. They’ve talked before about Hansol’s attitude to sex, how he wants to wait and be completely ready, and he’s so grateful Seungkwan has been so patient and accepting. Seungkwan’s grasp on his butt, however, ask _are you ready yet?_ And he is, he realises, completely ready: the idea doesn’t hold reservations and anxieties for him like it did a year ago, when they were newly together. So they grab the opportunity when Mingyu goes to a course social one night, and Seungkwan shows him just what else his hands can do.

Sex acts as a good stress reliever for them both in the run up to Christmas deadlines, but still can’t prevent Seungkwan’s crushing disappointment of getting a bad result on an essay he’d slaved over. Hansol comes back home on the last day before Christmas break to his boyfriend in a fit of tears on the floor, Mingyu holding him in a hug and trying to tell him that it’s fine, Seungkwannie, you’ve got lots of other opportunities to get good grades! This makes Seungkwan cry harder as he wails about finding essay writing too difficult, he can’t do it, he’s too stupid, why do they have to do essays anyway? He wants to sing, not write about Andrew Llyod fucking Weber. Mingyu looks up at Hansol desperately, who takes over in the hug while Mingyu resorts to patting his back reassuringly instead. Seungkwan finally registers Hansol’s arrival and launches into the story for him. The grade is a fail, and his mentor had told him that another fail would put him at risk of having to redo the year. Hansol feels powerless and indignant on his behalf. He’s watched Seungkwan read and write and work hard on that essay the past few weeks, and he feels the sting of the fail as keenly as if it were his own.

He listens patiently until Seungkwan runs out of energy, leaning heavily on Hansol in the hug.

“I’m so sorry about the grade, baby.” He presses a kiss to his forehead. “Essays are a fucked-up way of assessing intelligence that doesn’t allow for various types of smarts and creativity, but only furthers the prestige of certain types of thinking and knowledge.” Seungkwan whines and Mingyu shoots him a look, so Hansol switches tack. “But you need to go and talk to someone you find it hard. There are professors who can help you with essay writing.”

“It’s embarrassing,” Seungkwan mumbles into his shoulder. “I don’t want to.”

“You think I wanted regular nurse appointments?” Mingyu asks. “I thought it would make me feel worse, but she actually has great tips for stress management. Aren’t you always telling me not to be ashamed of things I can’t help?”

“Yes, but—it’s different—”

“How?” Mingyu challenges. “If I get you to call up the writing advisor right now, it won’t be any different from when you made me call up the nurse two weeks ago, will it?”

Seungkwan goes silent, a rare occurrence, but one that tells them Mingyu has won this particular argument. “Fine. I’ll get an appointment for January.” Behind Seungkwan’s back, they look at each other with relieved smiles, Hansol giving a thumbs up. “But if I hate it, I’m going back to crying on your shoulders.”

“Deal,” Mingyu says.

 

 

Seungkwan ends up going to the writing advisor regularly, and by the time spring break rolls around, manages to bring his essay grades up significantly. They celebrate by going to the party held by Joshua, Jeonghan and Seungcheol, who live a short walk away. Seungkwan is wasted before they even leave the flat, so Hansol knows he’ll have a good night, at least. Mingyu, too, is a social butterfly who is immediately drawn into conversation with some girls from his course. Hansol prefers to stick with close friends, keeping Jihoon company in the introvert’s corner of the room. They talk about very not-party things for a good chunk of the night: their latest assignments on the Music Composition course (though Jihoon is a year above him); the recent G-Dragon release (sub-par compared to his old stuff); Jihoon’s insomniac tendencies and the ways it makes a relationship with Soonyoung (who likes to rise with the break of dawn) a little challenging.

“Watch out,” Wonwoo says, appearing from nowhere, “someone’s stealing your man.” He follows Wonwoo’s line of sight to see Seungkwan and Mingyu dancing close together in a corner of the room. Mingyu looks like he’s had a few drinks, and Seungkwan is wasted, singing at the top of voice while grinding against him.

“It’s just Mingyu,” Hansol says, turns back to Jihoon to continue their conversation about the perils of loud, energetic boyfriends, but Jihoon is staring at him with a frown.

“You’re seriously not bothered by that at all?”

“Nope. Seungkwan is a touchy person. Alcohol enhances it, too.”

“You three are so weird,” Wonwoo remarks pleasantly.

“Why?” It’s not like he’s never heard this observation before from their friends, but as Wonwoo was close friends with Mingyu, he’d humour his unoriginality.

“Do you know any other couples rooming with one of their friends? And only one? Anyone else who lets their boyfriend grind on other people?”

It’s true, Hansol can’t think of anyone else in their situation. “No, but… it’s Mingyu.” He wishes he could explain it in a better way, wishes he could put a finger on what exactly it is that makes them different, but he can think of nothing more precise than just that.

“Whatever you’re into, I guess.” Wonwoo shrugs before heading back to the kitchen, where rowdy cheers indicate shots are going on.

“You’d better get those two home soon. If Mingyu starts falling over he could seriously crush someone.” Jihoon shudders. Hansol chuckles and downs the last of his drink, placing the cup down and standing up to stretch.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he says. “Have a good night man.” Soonyoung seems to be having the time of his life in the truth or dare game going on in the middle of the room, so he thinks Jihoon won’t be leaving anytime soon.

He ventures over to his drunken best friends, telling them that it’s time to get home. Mingyu smiles dopily and retracts his arm from Seungkwan’s shoulders to obediently stumble over to grab their coats. Seungkwan wails and rushes over to say a very over-dramatic goodbye to Seokmin, thanking him for the party, which makes Jeonghan next to him turn around indignantly. Hansol then has to wait ten minutes for him to say a thorough and emotional goodbye to everyone in his line of sight. He thinks it was perhaps a good call on Jihoon’s part to get him home now.

Mingyu and Seungkwan chorus an edition of the national anthem in the elevator, out of the apartment block, and all the way down the street. Hansol must be buzzed too, because it’s a lot funnier than it should be, especially when Seungkwan starts making up words. Hansol keeps a firm eye on Mingyu and a hold on Seungkwan’s hand to lead him down the street, headed for home. Seungkwan eventually tires of the national anthem, sighs, and drapes himself on his boyfriend.

“You’re so good, Hansol,” he slurs, leaning into him heavily. “Such a good boyfriend. Best boyfriend ever.” He slings an arm around his neck and pulls him in for some sloppy yet eager kissing. Hansol indulges him for a minute before pulling back and putting a finger to Seungkwan’s lips to slow him down, feeling Mingyu awkwardly pulling ahead of them up the street.

“Thank you, Kwannie. Let’s get you home right now though, yeah?”

“Yes, good boyfriend,” Seungkwan agrees. He’s flushed, and Hansol is also warm from the party and the alcohol and the kissing. The cool night air is soothing, though he doesn’t move away from the heat of Seungkwan’s body.

“You are too,” he says kindly, but Seungkwan shakes his head.

“Ah, but you the best, Hansol, my baby Hansol.” Seungkwan pinches Hansol’s cheek and giggles. “So cute.”

Hansol can’t help but laugh. “Thanks, babe.”

They walk for a minute, nothing but the sounds of the city and Seungkwan’s breathing between them. Then he says,

“I love you, Hansol.” He sounds more sober than he’s been for hours. They turn the corner to their street, and Hansol replies,

“I love you too, Seungkwan.” He places a kiss to alcohol-stained lips before leading him up the steps into their building, where Mingyu is waiting for them, holding the door and looking half asleep. Seungkwan is halfway there himself, now.

“Don’t let me freeze to death, lovebirds.” He ushers them into the building, slapping Hansol’s butt as the couple pass him though the doorway.

 

-

 

The end of the year approaches too fast, Mingyu spending more and more time working on his final assessment, Seungkwan and Hansol kept busy with their own work, more and more time spent in comfortable silence or divided up through the flat. They make time for Seungkwan’s end of year show though, sit together and whoop every time Seungkwan has singing parts, even though they’ve heard them be practised countless times at home. The cast are going out for a meal afterwards, but they have time to present him with a bouquet, and he smiles so brightly Hansol feels breathless. He kisses Mingyu’s cheek and Hansol’s mouth, looks so accomplished and giddy that it makes the past few months of running lines and wiping tears and having the same soundtrack on a loop worth it.

Mingyu looks flushed as they leave, and Hansol is pretty warm himself, so he’s glad they live close enough to walk home in the cool night air. He has the song about favourite things stuck in his head as they walk.

“Kwan was amazing tonight,” Mingyu remarks.

“He’s always amazing,” Hansol retorts shamelessly, expecting Mingyu to tell him he’s corny and shove him away, but he just says,

“Yeah, he is.” There’s a comfortable silence between them for a few minutes as they walk down quiet streets. Then Mingyu speaks again.

“I think I have to move out next year.” He looks up, but Mingyu has his eyes fixed on the ground. “I need to start applying for all the roles I can, but the studios are on the other side of the city.”

“I assumed we would move somewhere in between the studios and the campus?” Hansol asks in surprise. Seungkwan had said as much to him last week, so he’d presumed the other two had talked about it. Perhaps not, and Seungkwan was making his own assumptions.

“It’s so much further out for you two, though. You should stay in this area. This way you can find a proper couple apartment too.” The way Mingyu shrugs stiffly indicates that the latter part has more weight than he wants Hansol to believe, so Hansol stops in the middle of the street. They’re not far from home now, and the night air is chilly, but this is important.

“Mingyu, if anything has given you the idea we want you to move out—"

Mingyu stops too, whips around quickly to face him. “No! It’s not that.” Hansol studies his face for a lie. “Really! It’s just better, isn’t it?”

“Is it?” Hansol raises an eyebrow.

Mingyu stares at him. “Yes. It is. I thought you might be a little excited, at least.”

Hansol blinks a few times then begins to walk again, takes one of Mingyu’s hands and swings it between them gently. “Why? I’ll miss you.”

Mingyu’s makes a noise that starts sounding like surprise, but ends sounding like an assent. “I’ll still see you lots, idiot. When you’re not dying over final year work, that is.”

“You’d better be around daily. I’ll tell you what though, if I don’t like this, Seungkwan will hate it.”

Mingyu shrugs again. “I’ve dealt with him my whole life, haven’t I? I can handle Seungkwan.”

 

 

As predicted, Seungkwan hates it.

“That makes no sense, Mingyu! It’s easier for us all to share rent!”

“You can move to a one bedroom flat! It’ll be cheaper for you both!”

“Why can’t we just live together? Who will you even live with?”

“Wonwoo and Jun. Jihoon is moving out, so they’re looking for a flatmate. We’re all going for the same audition opportunities, anyway, so it’s convenient.”

“Wonwoo and Jun! And what do they know about taking care of you?”

“I don’t need a carer, Seungkwan! I need friends, and they’ve always been good to me!”

“And what about us? Aren’t we good to you?” Mingyu takes a second to watch Seungkwan, who’s voice is starting to shake.

“It’s not personal, Seungkwannie. You know that. I’ll be here all the time. Like when we lived apart in Jeju.”

“But why do you need to move out at all?” Seungkwan whines, crossing his arms and plopping down on the sofa next to Hansol, defeated. Hansol puts an arm around his shoulders comfortingly.

“We can’t live together forever.”

“Says who?” Seungkwan grumbles.

“Just trust me. This is better, okay? I’m still a bus ride away. I’ll see you lots.”

Seungkwan pouts and reaches out to Mingyu with grabby hands, pulls him down onto the sofa next to them in a sideways hug. “You’re so stupid.”

“Thanks, Kwan. You too.”

“Are they staying in their current place?”

“Yeah. I can move in when I graduate, no problem.”

Seungkwan groans. “How are you through your education already? We’ve lived together for like, five seconds.”

Mingyu shuffles in his hold. Hansol can hold his shoulder from here, with the way his arm is still around Seungkwan. A mess of limbs and comfort, melded together on the sofa.

Mingyu moans. “Don’t talk to me about it. It means I have to do adult things next year.”

“Like leave your student friends and perfectly good apartment to be with other ‘adults’?” Seungkwan questions smugly. Mingyu pokes him.

“You’re not going to let this go for a while, huh?”

“Yeah, no way.”

 

-

 

There’s a rush to find a new apartment for the remaining couple at such a last minute, but they manage to grab one a few streets away from where they already live. It’s smaller, but so central that it’s expensive, and they’ll have to work hard to afford it. On the day of Mingyu’s graduation they take two trips to move their belongings from one flat to the other. The heat of the day makes them slow, and it all takes longer than expected, which nearly makes Mingyu late to his own graduation. Despite the unrelenting sun and their lethargy, they cheer loudly from their seats, drawing stares from the parents sat all around them.

They were strewed around the living room one evening, working on separate assignments, when Mingyu had asked them to attend his graduation. Seungkwan had accepted with enthusiasm, while Hansol was left confused.

“I thought students were only allowed two seats each at graduation?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t your parents want to be there?”

“No.” Mingyu never talks about his family if he can help it. Hansol has always been curious, but tries to keep a respectful distance from the subject, and was only introduced to them very briefly during his stay in Jeju.

“Did you ask them?” Hansol asks tentatively.

Mingyu is quiet for a minute. Seungkwan is twitching in his seat, essay abandoned.

“Did you know that, when you left Jeju last summer, I slept on your floor mattress at Seungkwan’s for most of the nights after?”

Hansol looks at Mingyu steadily, intrigued. “I knew you slept over a lot. I didn’t know it was that much.”

“It’s because my family can only stand me for a few days at a time. Then I need to get out of their sight before they remember how much they despise having me around.” Mingyu stares at a space to the left of Hansol, scuffs his feet against the floor. “There’s a checklist of reasons they could reel off to you. Not that they would, because they like to pretend I don’t exist. They’re superstitious as hell, so my epilepsy is a curse. They’re ignorant, so my bad grades in high school are proof that I’m worthless. They’re prejudiced, so past boyfriends are just a string of abominations.” The more he talks the more rigid he gets, and the more Hansol realises he’s being given access to very private, intimate information from Mingyu. Wonwoo and Jun wouldn’t be told this. “So no, I haven’t asked them. But I don’t need to. Asking them to fly out to attend a ceremony that says, yeah, I haven’t got any skills as a doctor or politician or lawyer, but I sure can pretend to be other people for a camera… it would be a joke to them.”

“I’m so sorry, Mingyu,” he says softly, but his voice fills the room.

“I’m used to it by now. It’s just hard to tell people about.” He can hear the unsaid _I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier_ in there, and he accepts it.

“We’ll come be your parents, then,” Hansol says with a smile. Seungkwan leans over to hit him on the arm without heat.

“Don’t be so weird, Hansol. We’re going as his friends, not his dads.”

“Okay, Dad,” Mingyu says with a grin, and Seungkwan goes to hit him too.

“Stop! That’s weird!”

“Ah, I can’t wait to see you graduate, my son!” Hansol says, and it sends Mingyu into a fit of giggles.

Seungkwan huffs good naturedly. “No wonder people call us weird.”

So Hansol is sat beside Seungkwan at Mingyu’s graduation, waiting for the rest of the graduates to walk through the stage so the audience can be released to go and celebrate. He’s been thinking about Mingyu’s parents a lot since that day. The revelation had made him step back and appreciate how accepting his own family had been, of all his passions and personality traits, how he’d always been loved wholly. He’d had a long call with his parents and Sofia that night, and Seungkwan had stayed in the living room pretending to be busy until late to let him finish it in privacy. He’s so lucky for what he has, for the people who love him. He’s resolved to do his best to pass that love onto people like Mingyu, who deserve it the most.

Speaking of Mingyu, he’s also so, so proud. He knows how hard he’s been working to get a good grade and graduate, and has finished the year with his work paid off. Mingyu knows it too, and he grins from ear to ear as they walk through the park in the middle of town, headed to his favourite restaurant for lunch, still in his formal robes and hat.

When they get back home they drink until late and pass out on each other in the living room, a fitting way to end their last night in the apartment, Seungkwan says. They’re less happy with themselves when they have to take the trip across town with Mingyu’s belongings first thing in the morning, but at least it’s done in one trip. Wonwoo invites them to stay for a while, but Mingyu drags them out when Seungkwan starts giving Wonwoo a stern lecture on how to deal with a seizure. The Jeju boys have a plane to catch, anyway. Hansol travels with them both to the airport, says mournful goodbyes even though they’d arranged to come and visit him later in the summer. Seungkwan keeps trying to plant kisses to his face even as he’s backing away out of the airport to catch his train, and Mingyu yells Bye! Bye! after him all the way out of the exit, so that people around them keep looking over at the noise. Hansol heads to the train station with a giddy heart and a smile he can’t fight off his face.

 

-

 

It’s a relief to see them again in the summer, the three of them exploring Hansol’s hometown and meeting his (few) old school friends and cramming into his room to make plans for the next year. Seungkwan has high ambitions, planning to go to theatre productions and museums and the new diner opening in town, but Mingyu eyes him sceptically and tells him to wait until they start their third year to make such plans.

Now, he wishes he had heeded Mingyu’s words, wishes he’d savoured summer a little more, because third year has started and everything is chaos. Seungkwan has a million productions to learn and gets given a bulk of hours at his job. Hansol visits the new diner, though only for a job interview. He’d felt guilty last year, being the only one in the house without a job, so he’d resolved not to stand by and let his boyfriend work for their joint rent this year, even though Seungkwan had begged him to focus on himself first.

Between each of their jobs (Mingyu’s now full-time at the store), their amped-up education load and Mingyu’s auditions, it’s hard to find time for even two of them to get together, never mind the full trio. They compromise with Wednesday nights, their only overlapping free evening, and start picking movies each week to watch. Sometimes, if the movie is bad, Hansol goes back to working on his latest composition while Mingyu and Seungkwan run lines together, and they let the movie run in the background and pretend they aren’t working through what’s supposed to be their only leisurely social time. It’s okay, though, as long as they’re together: they can still be in each other’s presence, touch skin when sitting close, bounce melody ideas off each other, make jokes and swap stories. Wednesday nights help them adjust to the newfound distance between them, and slowly they figure out a routine. Seungkwan and Mingyu manage to meet up on Monday lunch times; Mingyu comes and has a smoothie at Hansol’s diner on quiet Thursday mornings; and Seungkwan and Hansol tell each other about their day every night before they fall asleep, giggling at gossip under the covers and whispering encouragement for the day ahead into each others skin, hands on arms and heads on chests.

Their full schedules eat away at the months until before he knows it, December has arrived. Snow and ice cover everything, decorations go up in the city centre, carols follow him when he walks through shops or arcades or down busy streets. He receives a message from Seungkwan in their group chat while he’s in class one day: _‘Clear your schedules for next Friday, we r going to the xmas market!!!!’._ Well, it’s about time he takes a day off work, he thinks.

Seungkwan loves Christmas, so he coos and ahhs and enthuses over every stall. Hansol loves the foreign food and cheap clothing stalls, and Mingyu is attracted to the tacky name personalisation gifts, so between them they have a hard time staying together. Eventually they lose Mingyu for a full half an hour and find him again holding a bag of baubles with thirteen different names on. At that point, they concede to the pull of secular Christmas consumerism, buy mulled wine and cookies and sit at one of the tables to watch the shoppers go by.

“I had one that went really well, I think,” Mingyu is saying, “though I’m shit at telling if people actually like me or not. I get a lot of compliments on my face, but no one ever wants to tell me if my acting is any good.”

“What a hard life, being too handsome for your own good,” Seungkwan says, smirking into his drink.

“Nah, I get it. People reduce you to your looks and don’t want to know anything past that,” Hansol says, tracing a finger around the rim of his cup absently while he watches Mingyu talk.

“Yeah, exactly. And if it’s not that, I’m paranoid they see ‘epileptic’ on my form and decide they don’t want to deal with me. Or maybe I’m just hoping it’s that, because no one wants to be told they’re useless at what they’ve worked towards for years.” Mingyu slumps in his seat, looking at the table glumly.

“Hey, come on. You said yourself it’s a super competitive area. Something will come along at the right time if you keep your eyes open for it, yeah?” Seungkwan reaches out over the table to take Mingyu’s hand gently. Hansol watches how their fingers lock together so perfectly, even though they both have gloves on. The side of Mingyu’s face that he can see has multicoloured splotches on it where the lights from the huge Christmas tree in the square reflect against his face, emphasising his jawline. Regardless of Mingyu’s very real talent and skill as an actor, Hansol thinks it’s a crime that he hasn’t been cast for his looks yet. Mingyu turns to look at him, his eyes shining under the coloured lights, and his heart does a funny jump. He’s so distracted by this that he misses Mingyu’s question.

“What?”

“I asked if you’d heard back from the internship?”

“Oh, no, not yet. It probably takes a while to get through all the applications. I hear it’s pretty competitive to get into.”

“This is the life we chose, you guys. Take my consolation now before you have to return it all next year. Musicals are super hard to get into too.” Seungkwan reaches out to wipe away the smudge of cookie icing Mingyu has on his lip. “We just have to remember why we’re here, yeah? Hard work will pay off. We just have to keep trying.”

Mingyu is looking at Seungkwan in a kind of daze, and Hansol is looking at Mingyu, and he feels like something irreversible is heading towards them that’s bigger than Mingyu wanting to move out, or Hansol having his first time, or asking Seungkwan on a date. It scares him, and it excites him, and he doesn’t know what the feeling means.

“Can we go back to the stall that puts your name on a Santa hat? I really want one,” Mingyu asks, already standing up. Seungkwan tuts at him, and they get one each to wear for the rest of the night.

 

-

 

Hansol keeps looking out for the feeling again after that. The little surge his heart had done. It reminds him of when he had looked at Seungkwan in the library and felt something similar, the startling pull in his chest. Now that they were approaching two years together, his heart wasn’t doing somersaults every time Seungkwan opened his mouth anymore. More like gentle forward rolls. Practised and familiar, still stirring but much more adaptable.

So the jumping heart feeling was like a reminder and an alert and a warning and he didn’t know what to do with that, the fact that he’d had one whilst looking at Mingyu. He starts thinking about it too hard and too deep, starts noticing when their hands touch at movie night, noticing how happy he is to receive Mingyu’s texts, starts watching him watch Seungkwan when they’re all together. It’s all oddly familiar stuff, and he wonders how long his heart has been doing this without his head noticing.

They meet up one last time before the Christmas break. Mingyu had decided to stay in the city over Christmas this time, to keep Jun company, who couldn’t afford to go back to China. Seungkwan wails about being lonely in Jeju over the holiday, though they all know Mingyu would have a better Christmas here, especially as his younger sister is flying out to join him. So a week before Christmas day they get together under Seungkwan and Hansol’s shitty little Christmas tree to exchange gifts, and Hansol’s heart does the funny jump thing again when he unwraps Mingyu’s gift. It’s a vinyl of the mixtape he’d been obsessed with for weeks. He looks at Mingyu and sees his look of anticipation, sees how thoughtful and expensive this gift was, sees how, even though he seems to watch Seungkwan a lot, he must watch Hansol too, to know how bad he wanted this. That’s it, he thinks. I’m fucked.

“Mingyu!” He’s amazed. He rarely even speaks about this group at length, because Seungkwan and Mingyu have such a different music taste to him. “How did you know?”

Mingyu just taps his nose knowingly. “A magician never reveals his secrets.”

“If only I had a vinyl player. I’d have this on a loop.” He picks it up like it’s a precious piece of art.

“Hm,” Seungkwan says in a pleased voice. “You should open my gift, Hansol.”

Hansol is too focused on the tracklist to pick up on his tone, so it’s with genuine shock that he opens Seungkwan’s gift to find a small, second-hand vinyl player.

“Seungkwan!” Now he’s speechless, gaping at them in shock.

“Hansol!” he replies, his face scrunching up in pleasure at Hansol’s surprise and joy.

“Woah!” is all he says, and it makes Seungkwan laugh and lean into Mingyu, who shows a toothy grin and leans back into Seungkwan. “Thank you so much!” He leans in to hug the both of them at the same time, and they return it gladly. He’s still staring at the gifts when Seungkwan starts opening his, and it makes Hansol grin when he realises they’d all managed to buy joint gifts for each other. Mingyu and Hansol had worked together to get tickets to the Twice tour, with success after an agonising wait in the endless ticket queue. Seungkwan screams and leaps on them and starts garbling something unintelligible, but nonetheless they gather this means he’s delighted. He seems to need a lie down from the shock as Mingyu opens his gift- a designer shirt from a brand he adores, but is way too pricey to justify buying on his pay wage.

“For your auditions,” Hansol explains, as Seungkwan is still having a spiritual experience on the floor. “To help you be more confident.” Mingyu looks at him with round eyes, and Seungkwan sits up.

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah,” Mingyu says breathlessly, and blinks suspiciously quickly.

“Oh, Mingyu!” Seungkwan says, leaping up to wipe his eyes carefully and pull the three of them back in for a hug. Mingyu delicately puts the shirt out of the way and hugs them back fiercely.

“I love you guys,” he says, quiet but firm, a statement bursting at the seams with sincerity. Hansol feels hot, squashed into Mingyu’s chest with Seungkwan at his back, but he’s able to say it back without sounding too strangled.

“You’re my best boys,” Seungkwan says affectionately. “Never leave me.”

“You say that as if we aren’t splitting up for Christmas break tomorrow.”

“You know what I mean, Mingyu.”

 

-

 

On Christmas day, Jihoon proposes to Soonyoung. The news spreads like wildfire through their friendship group, so that they all know about it before the social media posts go up that evening, but they all repeat their congratulations in the comments anyway. When term starts again and everyone is back in the city, they have a gathering to celebrate.

“It’s amazing!” Seokmin exclaims as he walks into the apartment. Soonyoung bagged a job teaching dance to little kids right out of University, and Jihoon is in the decently-paying internship Hansol is shooting for, so they can afford a somewhat upmarket place. “I’m so happy for you guys!” He rushes in to pick up Soonyoung in a tight hug. Soonyoung, who seems to be in a permanent state of euphoria, hugs back just as tight and makes a little squealing noise. They jump on the spot together, Seokmin giggling and Soonyoung smiling so broad Hansol is afraid it might break his face sometime soon. Jihoon even allows a quick hug from Seokmin too, before he tells him to take his coat off and sit down.

“I can’t believe you’re engaged before I am,” Seungcheol complains from his position in a casual recline on the sofa, one arm around on Joshua and the other around Jeonghan. “Don’t you have the manners to wait for your Hyung?”

“Can I remind everyone that we can’t actually get married in this country? You guys have thought of that, right?” Wonwoo deadpans as Seokmin takes a seat beside him.

“Oh yeah,” Mingyu intones. “Why are you guys engaged then?”

“It’s the closest we can get to marriage, isn’t it?” Jihoon shrugs. “I thought the gesture was the best I could do.”

“Also, Korea has to catch up sometime. If it’s while we’re alive, we’ll be first in line,” Soonyoung says optimistically, flashing his engagement ring to the room at large.

“We could just marry you in spirit,” Chan suggests. Minghao looks at him questioningly. “Really! What are we students for if we don’t say ‘fuck the government’ at least once? Let’s just marry them amongst ourselves, for fun.”

A smile grows on Minghao’s face. “Can I help decorate? Are we going to have it here?”

“We’re hoping to move into a new place behind the park soon.” Joshua pipes up. “We could hold it there.”

“A summer wedding!” Seungkwan gushes. “It would be perfect!”

“Maybe make it spring to accommodate for Hyung,” Seokmin says conspiratorially, indicating to Jihoon. “You know he doesn’t like to be in the sun for too long.”

“Hey! You can’t plan our fake wedding for us!” Jihoon says through a grin.

“Be quiet, we’re getting you married,” Jeonghan responds, entertained by the collective hostage of the fake wedding. “Who should officiate?”

“Joshua, obviously.” Seungcheol pats his head.

Joshua takes his hand and holds it at his side instead. “The whole point is that it’s a wedding separate from tradition, though. It’s not like Sunday school teaches you how to officiate a wedding anyway.” He looks at Seungcheol pointedly. “Seungkwan should do it, and Hansol can be the flower boy, since they’re probably the next to get engaged.”

“That’s to do with throwing the bouquet, Hyung,” Hansol says, raising his eyebrows at being singled out for engagement. They’re far too young, surely? Then again, Soonyoung and Jihoon are only two years older than them. The thought had never crossed his mind before, and it makes him feel a little strange.

“I just said it’s separate from tradition, Hansol, keep up. We can do what we want.”

“Hey!” Seungcheol pokes him. “If it’s the next to get engaged, it should be me officiating.”

“You and whom?” Joshua asks, with a challenging look. Seungcheol just raises an eyebrow back. The rest of the room have split off into excited discussion: Minghao and Wonwoo are arguing over acceptable wedding colours, Chan and Seokmin are looking up second-hand grooms suits online. He catches Mingyu staring at him, unseeing and straight-faced. He smiles to bring him out of his trance, but Mingyu doesn’t smile back. Just looks away, at nothing.

“This actually sounds fun, though,” Soonyoung is saying, but Hansol stays watching Mingyu’s impassive face. He’ll have to check in with him when he can: it might be an epilepsy aura. He breaks away from Mingyu’s face to glance over at Soonyoung. “Let’s do this! Can we?” He’s looking at Jihoon pleadingly, who gives a long-suffering sigh.

“I suppose…” Soonyoung gets up and starts dancing gleefully, singing an up-tempo remix of Here Comes The Bride, which encourages Seokmin and Seungkwan to join him in some sort of parody of a folk dance. Does folk dancing even happen at weddings? He’s never been to one, so he wouldn’t really know. He looks back at Mingyu, who’s staring at Seungkwan now. It’s starting to make Hansol anxious, the way he’s just looking without smiling or reacting. He wants to touch his hand and ask him what’s wrong. He wants to kiss away whatever is making him sad. He wants to sort his own shit out, before it starts affecting their friendship. He tears his eyes away from Mingyu again, and distantly registers that someone has brought out champagne that’s being passed around. He smiles and thanks Jun for his glass, but he’s not immersed in the fun anymore. Seungkwan has come back to sit by him, and gently nudges him in question when he sees him staring into the bubbles of his drink. Hansol only shakes his head.

“Guys, I brought this game,” Jeonghan starts, and the room oohs. “I thought it was perfect. Look, you put couples against each other, and they compete to see who knows each other best. I thought we could put the engaged boys against Seungkwan and Hansol, and take bets on the winner.” The idea is met with high favour by the room who cheer and immediately start shouting their bets over each other. Seungkwan quietly asks him if this is okay, so he tells him it is, he just needs a minute. Seungkwan nods back, so Hansol hands him his untouched drink and makes a quick trip to the toilet.

It’s quiet in the bathroom. The rowdiness of his friends seems distant behind the shut door and tiled surroundings. He puts his hands on each side of the sink and takes some breaths in and out. Revels for a few minutes in the empty space, the cool air, the dim light from the frosted glass window. Comes out of the room again when he’s ready and calm and not thinking about Mingyu. Only he immediately notices a certain six-foot-one boy missing from the living room when he comes back, and has to inquire after him, even as Seokmin is pulling him into a chair opposite Seungkwan.

“Said he had a shift to get to,” Soonyoung shrugs. “It was nice of him to come for a little while though.”

Hansol can’t focus on the game, so he and Seungkwan lose, though not by a whole lot. Seungkwan makes a big show of disappointment but makes an excuse for them to leave quickly after. As they’re leaving, Hansol shoots a text to Mingyu: _Are you okay?_

He gets a reply a few minutes later. _Fine_. His stomach sinks as he looks at the message, blunt and unresponsive and not at all like Mingyu. Seungkwan puts his arm around Hansol as they walk home, and doesn’t pry when Hansol says he doesn’t want to talk about it.

 

-

 

Seungkwan is sighing in frustration next to him, the glow from his phone lighting up his annoyed face despite the dark blanket of their bedroom.

“What is it?” Hansol asks, half asleep.

“Mingyu,” Seungkwan huffs, and Hansol is awake again. “I’m trying to rearrange movie night, since our timetables have changed and you can’t do Wednesdays anymore. He’s not giving me anything though. Look.” Seungkwan shoves the phone in his face, and Hansol squints into the sudden screen light. He adjusts after a few seconds and looks at the messages: lots of one-word replies, mostly Not Sure and Maybe and No. Mingyu usually likes to send them memes and links to K.Will interviews and pictures of the dog he met in the street that day, so this new behaviour is uncomfortable and strange.

“He’s been acting weird with me too. I texted him my new hours, so he could come and visit me in dead hours if he wanted. You know, like he did last term. He never replied, and he’s never been by.” Hansol props himself up on one elbow. “No, actually, he did come by this one time. I saw him walking past and peering in the window. He saw no one was there—completely empty shift—but he just faltered for a second and then walked on like he hadn’t noticed me.”

The memory makes his gut twist again. It had put him in an awful mood for the rest of the day, mind trying to come up with an explanation that isn’t _he knows and he’s disgusted with me._ He knows keeping an idea like this bottled up won’t help him, knows keeping his feelings from Mingyu and especially Seungkwan was never a good idea in the first place, but how the hell does he go about confessing this to either of them? _Oh, by the way boyfriend, I’m crushing bad on our mutual best friend. Best friend, I’m crushing on you, even though I’ve been dating your lifelong bestie and ex for nearly two years. What movie do you want to watch?_

“I don’t know what’s wrong with him.” Seungkwan says, voice high with frustration. Hansol supposes this confirms what they’ve both been wondering the past week: is Mingyu avoiding them? Why? What have they done? Seungkwan types something very rapidly into his phone, and Hansol’s mind is buzzing as he tries to relax back into the pillow. Seungkwan puts his phone away and pulls Hansol into him. He enjoys to touch and keep close contact as much as possible in these cold months, while the summer heat isn’t making it unbearable to be close.

“He’ll come around,” Hansol says, hoping that saying it out loud will make it real, will make him believe himself a little more.

“I hope so.” Neither of them sleep until late, laying there and holding each other in the dark.

 

-

 

He blurts it out to Seungkwan the following Friday, which is supposed to be the new movie night, except Mingyu still isn’t talking to them, so it’s not really movie night. They’re sat together, watching some drama Seungkwan follows while eating dinner, comfortably close to each other on the sofa. The room is peaceful, aside from Seungkwan’s occasional laughs at the funny scenes and whining about the antagonist, but Hansol’s mind is as crowded and confused as it has been for weeks, and at this point he just wants Seungkwan to know. He wants to stop feeling guilty for something he can’t control; he wants Seungkwan, his soulmate and life partner, to help him put a rest to these feelings.

“Seungkwan,” he says, before he can worry any longer about the very intense potential ramifications of admitting your feelings for someone else to your boyfriend of two years. Just do it. Get it over with, Hansol.

“Yeah?” Seungkwan says distractedly, eyes on the show as he chomps on rice.

“I have feelings for Mingyu.”

Seungkwan turns to him, chopsticks frozen at his mouth, and swallows his food loudly.

“What?” He says, utterly confused, arms drifting down of their own accord to put his bowl on his lap.

“The way I feel about Mingyu now is the same way I felt about you two years ago, when I wanted to ask you out,” he says clearly, not wanting to leave any room for doubt. You’re communicating, he thinks, you’re doing what partners are supposed to do. Stop sweating so much.

Seungkwan stares at him, his face screwed up. “Why?” he blurts out, then puts his bowl on the table in front of them with a little too much force. “Actually, don’t tell me all the reasons why you’re in love with Mingyu. Tell me what that means, Hansol.”

“I’m not in love with him,” Hansol rushes to clarify, breathless. “I have a crush. That’s it. I’m in love with you, Seungkwan.”

Seungkwan lets out a humourless laugh, too high, too loud. “That doesn’t tell me what you want, Hansol! What are you going to do about that? Do you want to date him instead?”

“No! No no no. No,” Hansol says, in Korean and English then Korean again, like his brain is melting out of his mouth trying to get the words out quickly enough. “No. I just wanted to tell you. It felt like I was lying to you otherwise. I love you, Seungkwan.” He brings his feet up on the sofa anxiously, tries not to feel like he’s hiding, tries to stop his hands from shaking.

Seungkwan watches him in silence for a few, awful moments. “Did you tell him this?” he asks, quietly. “Is this why he’s been avoiding us lately?”

“I didn’t tell him,” Hansol answers, shrinking into himself further. “I don’t know why he’s been avoiding us. Maybe he figured it out, I don’t know.”

“Are you going to tell him?” Seungkwan asks. His hands are grasping onto the edge of the sofa, and his stare is holding onto Hansol with a vice grip, inescapable.

“Only if you think I should. I want to do what’s best for us, Kwan. That’s why I told you. No other reason.”

Seungkwan turns away from him and wipes at one eye quickly, his tone fading from harsh to distressed. “I just don’t understand. Am I not enough?”

Hansol intakes sharply and grabs at his own ankles, as if attempting to anchor himself.

“Seungkwan, you are everything. You are more than enough. I’m sorry. I never wanted to make you feel like that.” He itches to reach out and hold him, but he’s not sure if it’s allowed. “You make me really happy. I don’t want anything to change with us. I don’t know what this thing with Mingyu is. I don’t know. But I can ignore it.” He can’t ignore it. “I can try and—and stop.” The stutter surprises him. He realises how shallow his breathing is. His ankles slip from his grasp, and he wills himself to breathe deeply, to concentrate, to not lose it right now. Seungkwan is silent beside him, unmoving until he puts a hand over Hansol’s heart, and suddenly, he’s found shore. He works on his breathing, focusing on Seungkwan’s touch.

“Breathe in. Breathe out. Slow. Don’t freak out on me, yeah?” Slowly, his breath comes back to him.

“Sorry,” he says, squeezing his eyes shut and hanging his head. Seungkwan leans in for a full bodied hug, but it’s awkward on the sofa, so Seungkwan ends up pushing him into lying across the cushions, resting his head on Hansol’s chest.

“Don’t apologise. I’m sorry for being mad. I’m glad you were honest. It’s not like I can blame you for having feelings. Especially when it’s Mingyu. Been there, done that.”

Hansol lets out an exhale that would’ve been a laugh if he hadn’t just narrowly avoided drowning in his own panic. “Still. It’s not fair on you.”

“I just freaked out. You should’ve led with the thing about not wanting our relationship to change. I was really scared for a minute, Hansol.” He moves closer and wraps his arms around him tighter, and the tension from Hansol’s body is released as holds his boyfriend and breathes. They stay there for a few minutes, the drama on screen forgotten, until Seungkwan lets out a heavy breath and draws back to sit up. Shakes himself back into life and holds out a hand to pull Hansol up too. He accepts it, and kisses Seungkwan on the mouth when he’s back upright, a _thank you for understanding_. Seungkwan smiles in response.

“We’re okay?” Hansol asks.

“We’re great,” he confirms, picking his bowl back up again. “Though you need to give me all the gossip, right now. When did you start liking him?”

 

-

 

He receives a call a few days later, effectively waking him up even though it’s already midday. It’s Seungkwan, who’s just come out of his morning classes- he’s usually woken up half an hour later than this, to the sound of Seungkwan shutting the front door when he comes home. It’s his only lie-in for the whole week, and Seungkwan knows he likes to make the most of it.

“I just got a text from Mingyu,” he says, the bustling noise of the campus in the background filtering through the receiver. “He wants to grab coffee. Like, right now.”

“This is a change of tone for him.” Hansol rolls onto his back, suddenly wide awake. Mingyu has been giving them the bare minimum for the better part of the last two weeks, and now he’s making sudden plans with Seungkwan? “Are you going?”

“Of course!” Seungkwan says. “Maybe he’ll finally tell me what’s up with him. Do you want me to tell him what you told me the other night?”

The rest of the night had gone well; Hansol had told Seungkwan every detail, so it was all out in the open between them, and he felt a lot better for it. They’d finished dinner together and talked into the night, fallen asleep wrapped around each other, Seungkwan warm and familiar, his heart feeling new and lighter.

“No, just find out what’s been up with him. See if he already knows. If he doesn’t then I should at least be there for my own confession. Not that there’s any point in a confession if I don’t want to date him.” Hansol rubs at his eyes.

“Okay. I’ll see you later. Wish me luck with Mr. Tall-and-Brooding.”

Hansol laughs. “Good luck.” There’s a shuffling on the other end of the line, and Hansol flops the hand holding the phone onto the bed. Instead of getting up, he worries his lip. Thinking about it, he hadn’t fully meant what he had said- he does want to date Mingyu. If he weren’t already in a relationship with Seungkwan, he would confess. But he is in a relationship with Seungkwan, a very happy one, so there’s no point wishing for what he can’t have.

He hopes Mingyu is okay, that he’s been avoiding them for some reason external to them. Then again, if it’s something they’ve done, they can fix it. He misses him. His stomach complains, prompting him to eat, but he’s stopped by the phone making a rustling noise on the bed next to him, and Hansol realises that neither of them had hung up the call. He smiles as he listens to Seungkwan make his coffee order, waits for him to sit down and realise and laugh and scold Hansol for not hanging up. When he does hear the phone clang out of Seungkwan’s pocket and onto a surface- the table, presumably- Seungkwan doesn’t talk to him, but greets someone else. Mingyu’s subdued voice replies, and Hansol’s smile drops. He doesn’t sound happy, and Seungkwan tells him as much.

“Are you sick, Mingyu? You seem really tired.” He pictures Seungkwan putting his hand to Mingyu’s forehead in that motherly way he tends to do.

“I won’t keep you for long, Seungkwan. I need to be honest about something,” Mingyu says. It all sounds wrong, and he knows this isn’t meant for his ears, that he should hang up now, but he’s desperate to know what has their best friend keeping his distance and acting so sullen. Desperate to know if it’s his fault, if he’d let slip somehow and made Mingyu uncomfortable.

“What is it? Are you okay? We’ve missed you,” Seungkwan replies in a tone too serious to suit him.

“You know... that thing that Joshua said, the other week.”

“You’re going to have to be more specific than that. Our friends talk a lot of shit.”

“At the engagement party, he was talking about how you and Hansol are next, or whatever.” There’s a brief silence on the other end, and Hansol feels taken aback, too. That’s what this is about?

“Have you been worried about that? You don’t have to plan a best man speech yet, you know. We’re only twenty-one,” Seungkwan jokes, but he can tell it’s the wrong thing to say when he hears Mingyu’s intake of breath.

“It’s a bit more than that,” Mingyu replies harshly, and Hansol goes still, can imagine Seungkwan with wide eyes on the other side of the phone. There’s another silence for a few seconds, and the sound of Mingyu scratching his nails on the table anxiously almost drowns out what he says next.

“I’ve had feelings for you for the last year, Seungkwan. I could deal with it before, because I didn’t want to hurt you or Hansol. But Joshua made me realise how long you two have been dating. He’s not like the other boys you dated for a few months in high school.” Mingyu’s voice gets quieter as he keeps speaking, until he croaks out, “I know he’s the one. I know you really love him.”

“Mingyu—" Seungkwan chokes out.

“I didn’t tell you this because I want you to break up with him,” Mingyu interrupts, like he has to get it all out, has to make Seungkwan understand. “I told you because I love you, and I love him, and I don’t want to get in the way of anything, but it’s really hard for me to be around you guys, so—I’m sorry I’ve been distant, but I need some time. I just need to get my head straight.”

He can hear Seungkwan’s strangled noise on the other end, and his heart wrenches. He wishes he were there, to hold Seungkwan and reassure Mingyu, to tell him it’s okay, they can figure this out. But he’s not there, so he’s left with the sound of Seungkwan’s distressed voice and Mingyu’s heavy silence.

“When will we see you again, then?” Seungkwan asks wetly.

Mingyu’s voice gets distant through the phone as he stands up from his chair. “I don’t know.” Seungkwan lets out a little shaky breath. After a few seconds, Mingyu says, “Shall I call Hansol to come get you?”

Seungkwan chokes on an empty laugh. “You should definitely call Hansol, but not for my sake. Please don’t leave. Let’s talk about this.”

Despite the background noise of the café, he can hear the sound of Mingyu’s footsteps moving away as clear as Seungkwan’s stuttering breaths, trying to stifle tears.

Hansol hangs up.

 

 

He expects Seungkwan to call him back right away, but he doesn’t hear anything for the next half an hour, until Seungkwan throws open the door to their apartment dramatically and announces,

“It’s all a mess, Hansol!” The sound of him flinging his shoes onto the shoe rack is a bad sign: he’s usually the orderly one around the house. “You will never guess what Mingyu just told me!”

Seungkwan appears at the bedroom doorway, and Hansol stares at the ceiling and says, “Mingyu likes you.”

“No, he—” Seungkwan stops short. “What? How did you know?”

“We left the call on the whole time,” Hansol murmurs. “Sorry.”

“You sneaky minx,” Seungkwan says emphatically, then flops onto the bed, latching himself onto Hansol until they’re intertwined, and they don’t have to worry about the Mingyu Problem alone anymore. “What do we do about this?”

“Wait for him to figure it out?”

“We’d be waiting our whole lives.”

“He said he needs space, Kwan. We should give him that, at least.” Hansol plays with Seungkwan’s hair. “If he calls, I’ll be honest with him. If not, we should wait for him to come back to us on his own terms.”

“How long will that be?” Seungkwan asks, sounding miserable. “Fighting with friends is the worst. I hate it.”

“I don’t think we’re fighting. Just on a friendship break.”

Seungkwan sighs. “That doesn’t sound much better.”

“He’ll be back here before you know it. It’s us, isn’t it? We’ll be okay.”

 

-

 

Maybe it’s merciful that he becomes so busy he has to put everything to the back of his mind for a little while. With the pressure of school work piling on and the end of the year looming just a few months over the horizon, the assignments are hard-hitting and all-encompassing. Along with trying to pull enough hours at their respective jobs to pay rent, they barely have time to see each other. One week, their work hours don’t cross over at all: Hansol either comes in too late, finding Seungkwan already asleep, or goes to bed alone. His birthday comes and goes, a rushed blowing out of candles at midnight, Seungkwan waiting up for him to come back from a gruellingly long shift, promising a late celebration as soon as either of them have time. He shakes his head and tells him it’s okay. All his friends send him messages apart from Mingyu, and it stings, but thinking about personal life stuff can wait until he can step away from his final project and breathe. Or at least that’s what he tells himself as day after day goes by without a word from Mingyu, until his confession to Seungkwan is nearly a month past.

He’s dragging himself into the apartment sometime after dark, exhausted by a full day of working on his final project and long shift at the diner, when he almost trips over a harried and equally exhausted Seungkwan who is tugging his shoes on in the doorway. He knows full well that Thursdays are long for both of them, and Seungkwan doesn’t like to move from the sofa in the evenings if he can help it.

“You okay?” he asks, startled.

“Mingyu is in the hospital,” Seungkwan says, short, clipped. Hansol sways a little on the spot. “He had a seizure and hit his head on a kitchen counter. He was unconscious for a while, and they’ve been keeping him in for monitoring since.” Seungkwan finally wrestles his shoe onto his foot and stands up to look at Hansol. “If we go now, we should be able to catch the end of visiting hours.” Hansol turns wordlessly and walks right out of the doorway again, still in his work uniform and coat. Seungkwan grabs his own coat and locks up the door behind them, slams his hand on the button to call the elevator. The silence between them is heavy, and Seungkwan rubs at his eyes.

“Did Mingyu tell you this?” Hansol asks, tentatively.

“No,” Seungkwan says, voice shaking. “Chan just told me over the phone. He thought I already knew. He was asking me if Mingyu would appreciate flowers.” The elevator arrives and they both step in, Seungkwan mashing the button for the ground floor before covering his face with his hands and leaning into the cold metal wall. Hansol puts a hand to his back tenderly and sees Seungkwan let out a shuddering breath.

They walk to the bus stop in silence, Seungkwan latched onto his arm. When they arrive and stand under a dull street light, Hansol can see wetness around his eyes, and brings him into a hug. He starts audibly crying into his shoulder, and Hansol squeezes his eyes shut, buries his face in his neck.

“Why wouldn’t he call us?” Seungkwan chokes out, muffled into Hansol’s coat. Hansol strokes his back soothingly. “He said he needed space but—if he’s hurt—why wouldn’t he say?” he whispers, and Hansol gives his neck a kiss, still holding him in the hug.

“He’ll come around,” Hansol says, quiet but as confident as he can muster with his own lingering uncertainty. He’d always had it in his head that this friendship break they were on would be temporary, but for Mingyu to deliberately not call them? After something like this? He’s reminded that this is all new territory for them—they’d had disagreements, but never this sort of distance, never a real fight. Friendship break, he reminds himself. It suddenly strikes him that, if they can’t patch this over, he will be the reason for the end of Seungkwan and Mingyu’s friendship. He shivers in the night air.

“I hope so.” Seungkwan mumbles. He draws back and wipes his eyes with his sleeves. They stand there, holding hands, willing the bus to come.

 

 

They find Mingyu’s room with some difficulty, stalled by identical hallways and a stern-looking receptionist who reminds them there’s only half an hour of visiting time still open. It hastens them along to the right floor. They accidentally walk right by the room once as the it’s only half lit, Mingyu laid sleeping with the moonlight from the window shadowing his face. There are four beds in the room, but Mingyu is the only occupant, so Seungkwan has no qualms about sitting heavily in the visitors chair right by his side and planting a gentle kiss on his forehead, stroking back lank hair with a tender touch. There’s a gauze on the side of his head, that Seungkwan is careful to avoid, and a steady heart monitor beeping in the otherwise sterile, still room.

“Should we wake him up?” Hansol asks, hushed. Seungkwan sighs and rests his head awkwardly on the side of the bed, one hand still stroking Mingyu’s hair.

“No. I just wanted to know he was okay. I can yell at him some other time.” Seungkwan is practically melting into the bed frame, and Hansol changes his mind about sitting in the other chair.

“Shall I find us some coffee?”

“That would be amazing, baby,” Seungkwan murmurs.

He gets mildly lost, so retrieving coffee from the machine two hallways away takes a little longer than anticipated. Seungkwan is dozing when he finds his way back, propped between the visitor’s chair and Mingyu’s bed. Hansol puts his coffee on the table, a distance away from the medical equipment, and is about to wake him up when he sees Mingyu’s eyes are open and looking up at him.

“Hi,” Hansol says softly, walking around the bed to sit in the other chair. Mingyu watches him without saying anything, until Hansol gently takes the hand that’s resting on the bedsheet. His skin feels warm and dry, and Mingyu’s breath hitches, and he blurts out,

“How did you know I was here?”

“Lee Chan.” Hansol smiles as best as he can.

“How did Chan know?”

“I don’t know, Mingyu. Who did you actually tell about this?” Hansol levels Mingyu with a look and Mingyu looks away guiltily.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and the apology hangs over their heads. “I didn’t want to be any more of a problem for you two.” He looks over at Seungkwan, whose face is mushed into his own arm, gentle puffs of breath signifying his sleep.

“Seungkwan was really upset. You’re never a problem, Mingyu, because we both care about you.”

The half-dark of the room is starting to get to him too. He wishes he could lie down and sleep this anxiety away, wake up and have everything be a nightmare, their comfortable three-way friendship restored. He brings Mingyu’s hand up to his lips and leaves a gentle kiss on the back, trying to convey all these feelings in the gesture. “So apologise when he wakes up, and we’ll both come see you tomorrow, too.”

“I don’t deserve your kindness,” Mingyu whispers, staring at the back of his own hand, eyes flicking up to Hansol’s face.

“You deserve every kindness, Mingyu,” Hansol says sincerely.

Mingyu gazes back at him. “Anyone else in your position would hate me.”

“I’m not anyone else, am I? And considering my huge crush on you, that would make me such a hypocrite.”

Mingyu blinks at him. “Your what?”

At that moment, a nurse raps on the door. “Five minutes left!” she calls to them before moving on, startling Seungkwan out of his nap. He looks around wildly, hair in tufts and a crease mark down one cheek.

“Mingyu! You’re awake!” he says, clutching onto the bed-ridden boy in a tight hug that Mingyu scrambles to reciprocate before Seungkwan is pulling away again. “How are you feeling? What happened? When are they discharging you? Why didn’t you wake me up?” The last question is directed at Hansol, who gets a swipe to the arm for his incompetence as a boyfriend.

“He’s got a crush on me,” Mingyu says, indicating to Hansol and completely ignoring the barrage of questions. Hansol just sips at his drink.

“I told you to call him, didn’t I? Now answer me!” Mingyu blinks a few times, forehead creased in confusion, but then relaxes back into the bed and obeys.

“I’m okay,” Mingyu replies, voice hushed. “I didn’t even hit my head badly,” Seungkwan scoffs and him but doesn’t interrupt, “but I’ve had some headaches, so they wanted to keep me here in case it turned into more seizures. I’ve been okay this evening, and if I still feel okay tomorrow, they’ll discharge me in the morning.” He looks up at the ceiling, avoiding anyone’s eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

“You’d better be,” Seungkwan says, gently hitting his arm too. “We’ll come pick you up when you’re discharged tomorrow. Just call, alright?”

“Come and see me before I get discharged. Wonwoo said he would pick me up tomorrow.”

“You’re going back home? Will Wonwoo and Jun have time to look after you? I heard Jun got a role recently.”

Mingyu shrugs. “I’ll be fine.”

“You need someone looking out for you, Mingyu, you’re injured!”

“If they discharge me, that means I’m okay!”

“It means you’re okay enough not to be bed-ridden!” They’re both trying to keep their voices low so the nurse doesn’t get called back, which gives Hansol the impression of children having a whispered argument behind their parents’ back. He smiles, their disagreement giving him comfort, giving him hope, that maybe this means things can go back to normal between them. He steps in before they can get kicked out of the hospital, though.

“We’ll come for you tomorrow and ask the doctor if they think you need someone to be around you. If they say yes, you can come and stay with us for a few days. If not, you can go back home.” The boys look at him, then at each other.

“Alright, we’ll do that then,” Seungkwan says. Mingyu nods his acquiescence, and Seungkwan smiles in triumph. The nurse comes around again, rapping on the door.

“Please make your way out of the building, visiting hours are over.” She carries on around the ward, and Seungkwan makes a face when she’s gone. He goes to kiss Mingyu’s forehead again, before thinking twice about it and awkwardly giving him a pat on the cheek instead. Hansol stands, grabbing both his empty cup and Seungkwan’s untouched coffee.

“We’ll see you tomorrow, then,” Seungkwan says, once they’re at the doorway.

“Yeah,” Mingyu replies, giving them a small smile and settling back into his bed. “See you then.”

 

 

Wonwoo is there before them the next day, despite the fact that Seungkwan called in sick to skip work and Hansol had come straight from his morning class. Mingyu beams when they step into his room as if he’d doubted they’d come, effectively distracting himself from the doctor talking to him.

“Sorry we’re late. This room is still hard to find,” Hansol says sheepishly.

“Is this them?” The doctor asks Mingyu, who nods. “Ah, gentlemen, I might as well brief you now you’re here.”

“I’ll go, then, if I’m not needed,” Wonwoo says in an amused tone. He pats Hansol on the shoulder on the way out.

“Mr Kim is doing great! The gash is healing well, and the headaches are a lot better, so we aren’t expecting any complications. He should take it easy for the next few days though, no work, nothing stressful. If he passes out, has a seizure, or,” she turns back to Mingyu sternly, “has anymore headaches, you should come back to the hospital immediately. Otherwise, I predict a seamless recovery.”

“Thank you so much, Doctor.” Seungkwan takes her hand and shakes it sincerely. She smiles at him.

“I can see he’s in good hands. You’re free to go now, Mr Kim.” Mingyu stands to thank her and shakes her hand too. The gauze is gone now, just a bandage on his forehead, near where his hair parts.

“Let’s go home,” Seungkwan says.

 

 

Their bed is barely big enough for the two of them, and they can’t bear to let Mingyu sleep on the sofa on his own, so they compromise by throwing a bunch of blankets on the living room floor and sleeping communally for two nights. Seungkwan’s hips clunk when he gets up in the morning and Mingyu bleeds all over one of the pillows when he breaks his stitches in the night, but mostly they have two nights of being close again, physically and emotionally. He had been worried the atmosphere between them might become strained or awkward once out of the hospital, and while they were travelling back to Hansol and Seungkwan’s flat, it was. For the most part, though, he’d been wasting his energy: they slip back into old familiarity like there had never been a break, Mingyu making the flat his home as if he had been living with them all along. Hansol thinks it’s most fun weekend he’s had in a while, binging superhero movies late into the night and cooking up midnight snacks at an hour when everything seems funny. His manager is understanding and rearranges his shifts while Seungkwan blatantly lies to his about having the flu. Mingyu tries to stop from laughing as Seungkwan puts on a convincing sick voice while on the phone to her, listing his various terrible, debilitating symptoms.

Even when they do a whole lot of nothing, Mingyu playing on a game while Seungkwan and Hansol catch up on school work, Hansol feels calmer than he has in weeks. Being within touching distance of Mingyu again, being able to talk to him comfortably when he wants, sit in the same room and watch him exist, seems like a minor miracle, a blessing from God. They fall back together with no effort, with no dramatic reconciliation of feelings. They’ve just been drawn back to one another, like it was silently agreed, like it was inevitable.

His heart is still jumping whenever Mingyu gets too close, but he tries to ignore that.

They take him to get his stitches removed on Monday, reporting Mingyu’s sound health to the kind Doctor who beams and congratulates Mingyu on his rapid healing. To the three of them, though, this means the end of their sleepover, the end of their détente in Mingyu’s requested distance, and it makes Hansol a little anxious. He’s so glad Mingyu is well, though. He’s willing to send Mingyu back to his flat on the other side of town if it means he’s okay, even if it fills him with uncertainty.

“I have a production coming up in spring,” Seungkwan says carefully as they’re exiting the hospital. “I’ll see you there right?” They all see it as what it is: have you had enough space? Are we okay?

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Mingyu says without hesitation, and Hansol can feel himself relax as Seungkwan beams. “Movie night is on a Friday now, right?” he asks, a little more tentatively.

“You bet it is.” Hansol feels like he could start glowing. Mingyu’s bus pulls up at the stop.

“I’ll see you both before then,” Mingyu promises, heading towards the bus doors. “Thank you for the weekend! I love you!” Hansol can see the blush creeping up his face as he steps into the bus, almost tripping up the step. Seungkwan pulls Hansol into a victorious grasp and laughs with wild relief, and Hansol laughs with him. They see Mingyu in the window as the bus pulls away and wave to him enthusiastically, Mingyu smiling despite his flushed face and waving back before the bus turns the corner. Seungkwan lets out a happy noise and starts jumping on the spot.

“We’re going to be okay!”

“I told you so!” Hansol says, though he’s feeling the same rush of relief too, dizzy with the relief of being able to think, yeah, we’ll be okay.

 

-

 

Mingyu comes to see him at his work the next day, takes a stool at the bar and orders a milkshake nervously. Hansol whips it up for him with more enthusiasm than he’s had in weeks. He’s taken away by another order right after, but when he comes back, Mingyu is shifting in his seat and nudging something towards Hansol across the bench. He picks it up and looks at Mingyu in surprise.

“Why do you have this?” He’s holding the recent Drake album on vinyl. It must be expensive, but as far as he knows Mingyu doesn’t have a vinyl player.

“It’s for you,” he says with hesitation. “For your birthday. I’m sorry I missed it.”

Hansol looks at him in surprise, then smiles down at Drake’s face. “It’s okay. Thank you so much for this. I’ll keep it preciously.” He places it under the counter, feeling a warmth grow in his chest, encompassing his dancing heart.

“It’s not okay, though,” Mingyu says, downcast, fiddling with his hands.

“Really, Mingyu, you don’t need to worry—”

“I want to take you out,” Mingyu interrupts in a rush. “To make up for everything.” His eyes bore into him, and Hansol stares right back, a little off balance.

“Me?” he confirms.

“Yeah.”

“Just me?”

Mingyu pauses for a second. “Yeah. If that’s okay with you.”

Hansol has too many questions. He wants to take Hansol out, alone, days after he confessed feelings for Mingyu. Is this a coincidence? It could just be for his birthday, like he’d said. But then why wouldn’t Seungkwan be invited? They always did things together. He wants desperately to ask if this is a date, but he doesn’t want to seem like he’s hyper-focused on Mingyu in a romantic way and break this careful reparation of their relationship. He doesn’t want to jeopardise this potential date thing, even if it’s not a date thing. After all, it wasn’t Hansol’s crush that gave them tension in the first place: it was Mingyu’s. Mingyu’s crush on Seungkwan. So there’s no way this is a date thing. Right? Maybe he’s overthinking it.

“That sounds great!” Hansol says, despite the internal buzzing. Mingyu beams so bright it subdues his doubts.

“Awesome!” Mingyu slurps on his milkshake for a minute while Hansol is taken away by another customer. The order takes longer than expected, so when he comes back Mingyu’s seat is empty, leaving only the payment and a note with a time, date and restaurant on it. Hansol’s stomach does some squirming as he slips it into his pocket, and he’s not sure if it’s with anticipation or apprehension.

 

-

 

“He what?” Seungkwan squints at him over his jjajangmyeon.

“He wants to take me out to dinner. For my birthday.”

“You mean he wants us to go out for dinner, for your birthday.”

“That’s the thing, though. I asked him if he meant just me, and he said yes.”

Seungkwan sits back in his seat as if completely baffled by this. “I received a text from him today, you know. He asked if we could have lunch together tomorrow after my shift. I said that would be great, and we could go to campus and catch you between classes. But he said he wanted to buy me lunch somewhere nice in town, to apologise. What does he think he’s doing?”

Hansol puts his elbows on their little dining table and puts his chin on his hand, deep in thought. “Does it feel like a date to you?”

Seungkwan sits up, gets close to Hansol, face alight with the mystery of Mingyu. “That’s what I was thinking when he said that! But then I felt bad, because I could be biased since he told me he’s into me.”

“Then feelings make me biased too,” Hansol says, raising an eyebrow and letting himself laugh. What a situation they’re in, he thinks.

“What, you think he’s courting us? Separately? Seems like an elaborate plan on his part.”

Hansol thinks, hard. “We need another perspective into this. It’s so hard to explain, though.”

“Oh, yeah. Where are you going to find someone who knows us well enough to understand our relationship, and also give advice on trying to date two people at once?” Seungkwan laughs, but Hansol just stares at him.

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

He looks at the wall blankly as the memory slams into him like Mingyu when he’s not looking where he’s going. The taste of pasta, a summers day in a theme park, being asked a strange question in English. “We should talk to Joshua.”

“What does Shua know about that sort of thing? He’s only dating Seungcheol.”

Hansol refocuses on Seungkwan’s face. “No, he’s not. He’s dating Jeonghan.”

Seungkwan frowns. “Where did you get that idea? He’s been dating Seungcheol since we met them, at least. Didn’t you see how close they were sitting at the engagement party?”

Something clicks into place for Hansol in that moment, and it rocks him. “Seungkwan, when we were at the theme park together, he asked if you were dating both Mingyu and I.”

Seungkwan’s eyes widen as he’s also hit with the realisation. “No way. Hang on. Are we sure this isn’t you not paying attention again?” He picks up his phone and types with speed.

“Hey, I’m not that bad!” Hansol complains, but a second later he gets a notification from Seungkwan to the UNI KIDZ group chat. The group was created during their first year, so only the youngest five out of ten are still students, but they keep the name for nostalgia’s sake, Soonyoung says.

_question for all: who is josh dating??_

Within minutes, answers roll in _. lol seungcheol_ , Soonyoung says.

 _No, he’s seeing Jeonghan_ , Wonwoo refutes. _I literally saw them on a date yesterday._

Seokmin’s typing bubble wiggles furiously. _but i thought seungcheol and jeonghan were dating each other???????_

They look up at each other at the same time. Hansol is impressed that this is the first time ten boys have noticed a certain couple (throuple?) don’t seem to match up quite as they’d thought. Seungkwan sits back in the chair, eyes big, mind on the same thing.

“You know, I admire the hustle,” he says. “I bet they were playing with us, seeing how long it would take us to notice. It was probably Jeonghan’s idea.”

“I bet it was Joshua’s,” Hansol says. The chat are starting to take sides: Jihoon says Josh is seeing Seungcheol, Minghao thinks it’s Jeonghan, Chan sides with Seokmin’s opinion. Jun confesses he hadn’t known any of them were dating.  “He’s sneakier than he seems. Cheol doesn’t have a chance between them.” He’s already pulling out his phone and searching for Joshua’s contact as Seungkwan starts on his food again, muttering about how scandalised he is.

He gets up and starts to pace up and down the room as the phone rings. It doesn’t take long for his Hyung to pick up.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Josh.”

“Hi, Hansol. This is unexpected. What did I do to earn a call from you?”

“Ah, you might be a little popular with a lot of our friends very soon, Hyung,” Hansol says playfully.

“Hm?”

“You’ll see. I wanted to ask you something, actually.”

“Shoot.”

“Do you remember when we went to that theme park together?”

“Of course. We should go again, it was a good day.”

“While we were there, you talked about how some people date more than one partner .”

Josh pauses for a minute, and then his tone changes. Hansol can hear his realisation.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Does that really happen? Does it work?” Hansol can’t stop the smile from creeping into his voice.

There’s a breath of laughter down the phone. “You guys figured it out, huh? Yeah, I’ve been dating two other men for over three years, so. I’d say it works.”

“Wow.” Expecting it is one thing: having it confirmed amazes him all over again. “Is it like an open relationship?” Hansol had heard of these, but understood them to be for the sake of sexual openness rather than romantic connection.

“Do you know the word polyamory? I’d say that term is more accurate.”

Hansol furrows his brow. “Like when people have loads of wives?”

“That’s polygamy,” Joshua corrects, amused. “Polyamory just means you’re dating more than one person. An open relationship is like… you have a partner, and you can also be with other people. Polyamory is like, Jeonghan and Seungcheol and I are all dating each other.”

It’s mind-blowing to hear Joshua just say it like that, as if it’s nothing, as if he’s not breaking every societal rule and expectation by doing so. He wonders if that was part of the reason they’d avoided telling their friends about it for so long.

“Wow.” He can’t think of much else to say to that.

Joshua laughs at him. “It’s like any relationship. If you want it to work, it will. If you communicate and compromise and look out for each other, then it will work.”

“Really?” he asks, looking over at Seungkwan, who is finishing up his food and listening to Hansol’s side of the conversation. “I’ve never heard of a three-way relationship like that.”

“They’re rare, but we exist. Do some research, Hansol, I promise you it’s not a bad thing.”

Hansol has a million questions, but none of them seem right, so he just says,

“Thanks, Josh.”

It seems like Josh gets it, because he speaks with a smile in his voice. “No problem, Hansol. You can call me anytime, you know.”

“Thanks,” he says again, his thoughts too messy to get much else out. “I’ll talk to you later, then.”

“Talk to you later. Good luck with Mingyu.” The line goes dead, and Hansol is left staring at his phone.

“Well?” Seungkwan asks.

Hansol looks up. “Have you ever heard of the term polyamory?”

 

 

An hour later, Mingyu messages the chat. _Wait, you mean you guys didn’t know?_

 

 

-

 

The next day is Seungkwan and Mingyu’s not-date at some nice brunch place in town, and Hansol is thinking about it the whole time he’s on his own quick lunch break. What were they talking about? Their Hyungs were a current hot topic between their friends, and Seungkwan had been onto the phone to Mingyu for an hour last night demanding to know why Mingyu had never brought it up. Mingyu seemed to be under the impression that it was not to be talked about, as some sort of unspoken rule, as the three boys involved never brought it up. That much is true, for all Joshua’s talk about the importance of communication, Hansol thinks.

Seungkwan texts him afterwards with the report. _He was super normal, just like before, not like he was trying to make it a date? Maybe he really is just trying to apologise._ Hansol doesn’t know if that makes him feel better or worse. He’s been doing research on polyamory, and he’s found that the close knit, intimate version, that Josh seems to have with his boyfriends, sounds amazing. He dreams about it that night, dreams that he’s walking along a beach with Mingyu on one side and Seungkwan on the other, that he can kiss them when he wants and take them out to nice dinners and wake up and cuddle with both of them at his leisure. It makes him quiet and contemplative first thing in the morning, causing Seungkwan to drag him into the bathroom and talk it out before they have to start the day.

“You were twitching in your sleep, so you had a dream last night, right? Is it bothering you?” he asks whilst applying shaving cream. Hansol taps on the side of the toilet lid he’s sat on and watches him gently stroke the razor across his cheek.

“Yes and no. I’ve been thinking a lot about the polyamory thing, I guess.” A lot is an understatement. He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it. Here is an answer to his problems, a perfect solution, and he’s never wanted anything so badly. He’s never usually ashamed of what he wants, but this directly involves Seungkwan and Mingyu, and it’s a little embarrassing to admit he wants both. It makes him feel greedy, like this is the one thing that might tip the balance of his life too far, like he’s had too much good and he can’t deserve this too. He tries to shake the thoughts away, focus on Seungkwan in front of him.

“You’d like to date Mingyu too?” Seungkwan had been warm towards the idea of polyamory when they’d discussed it, more than Hansol had expected, and it gives him too much hope.

“I’d like it best if all of us dated each other.” It sounds wild coming out of his mouth, but the least he can do is be honest.

Seungkwan hums and starts rinsing his face clean. “The thing is, I’m not head over heels in love with Mingyu. But I’m not adverse to dating him either. Like if you’d said, can we date Chan? Or Seokmin, or Jun? I would be like, no way, you’re crazy. But Mingyu?” Seungkwan shrugs. “Maybe that means I am actually into him.” He stares at himself in the mirror for a few moments, as if the thought had just occurred to him. “Or maybe it’s because we didn’t get a proper chance at a relationship when were teenagers, and doing it again doesn’t seem such a bad idea. Maybe it’s because you already like him. But I feel like I could totally try and make it work, you know?”

Hansol’s holding his breath. This is more than he ever could’ve expected. “Really?”

Seungkwan nods, drying his face with a towel. “We’re already in a relationship with him, practically. We go on dinner dates and have movie nights and we want to spend the rest of our lives together.” He smiles fondly at Hansol. “So I’d be down to try this poly thing. But only if he’s interested in dating us both. It’ll just get messy otherwise.” He picks up a bottle of moisturiser.

“Yeah, I agree,” Hansol says, propping his chin on the sink and watching Seungkwan in the mirror. “Okay. We should talk to him sometime.” The idea makes his stomach turn, but he knows this idea will just hang over them if they don’t act on it. He knows he must be bold about this, if he wants it to be real.

“Yeah. I think I’ll talk to Seungcheol too, ask how they started this thing out.”

“Good idea. How weird is it that we have someone like them to help us out in a situation like this? Like what are the chances? I think God is smiling on us.”

Seungkwan snorts. “I think it’s a good thing Mingyu was sociable with other actors and gays the year before we came to study here. He has all sorts of interesting connections.” His face is shiny with moisturiser, which he looks satisfied with, so he takes Hansol back through to the bedroom. “C’mon, we have to pick out your outfit for this evening. I won’t be back until late, so let me choose now.”

 

 

All this dating talk makes him feel a little guilty while he’s getting ready for his not-date with Mingyu. Then again, Mingyu knows how he feels, and he must understand the context of asking him out to a nice restaurant. He can be forgiven for thinking _it’s a date, it’s not a date_ , as if he’s picking petals from a flower inside his mind.

He meets Mingyu outside the restaurant, almost stops in his tracks when he spots him. He dresses up well, in a smart blazer with his hair styled up, cheekbones sharp in the evening light. Mingyu sees him too, smiles wide like Hansol has brightened his day by existing. He can’t help but smile back, and feel glad he let Seungkwan pick out his own blazer and slacks.

“Hi,” Mingyu says, and reaches out a hand. Hansol takes it, trying not to blush as the feeling in his chest makes itself known. It’s not a date, it’s not a date. “Let’s go in.”

Mingyu leads him inside, where a waiter seats them at a table. There’s a candle on the table next to a jar with a rose in. Mingyu even pulls out his chair for him. He doesn’t know what most of the items on the menu are, and neither does Mingyu, so they both laugh over their attempts at pronouncing the names and ask the waiter to choose for them. The familiarity puts him a little more at ease.

“So, when did you know about the Hyungs?”

Mingyu, of course, knows which Hyungs he means. “Ever since my first year. I thought it was obvious, to be honest.”

“How was it obvious? I’d never even heard of a relationship like that before them!”

“Have you never come across it? It’s becoming more known, I think. Especially if you’re researching gay stuff as a confused teen.”

“I never really researched anything when I was growing up, to be honest. I just did what I felt like. My parents were pretty accepting, so I didn’t need to go and find answers on the internet.”

“How did you know you were bisexual then?”

Hansol shrugs. “I just came home one day and told my Mom about my crush on a boy. And she told me what it was called, when you like both.”

“So you don’t know about pansexual?”

“What’s that?”

Mingyu grins. “You’re like a little gay baby. You know, Seungkwan used to tell me a lot about your relationship when you were first together.” He takes a sip of his water. They’re still waiting on the wine they ordered. “You should look up demisexual.”

Hansol shrugs. “Okay, sure. I’ve found a few new terms when I’ve been looking into the polyamory thing. Polygamy, polyandry, swingers. It’s super interesting.”

“You’ve been researching it?”

Hansol tries not to flush and give himself away. “Well, yeah. It’s our Hyungs. The same way I read up on epilepsy when I found out about you.” He brings his own glass to his mouth to stop himself from talking.

Mingyu inclines his head. “Yeah, fair enough.” Their wine arrives, and Mingyu thanks the waiter, pours them both a drink. “Anyway. To you turning twenty-one.” They clink the glasses together and take a drink from them.

“Thanks again for your gift, Mingyu.”

“It’s okay. I’m glad you like it. What else did you get?”

“I mostly asked for music equipment. Seungkwan got me clothes too, though, ‘cause he can’t stand ‘impersonal gifts’. Even though it’s what I asked for.” Hansol smiles a little. “I do like them though.”

“Well, you deserve the extra gifts.” Mingyu says, his voice warm. He reaches out and takes Hansol’s hand that was resting on the table fingers big and warm and gentle against Hansol’s skin. It suddenly strikes Hansol that, if this isn’t a date, it’s too cruel.

It slips from his mouth without his permission. “Is this a date, Mingyu?”

Mingyu looks at him and blinks a few times. “It’s for your birthday…” He trails off in an unsure voice.

“But is it a date?” Hansol presses. He feels like he might be sick.

“I… I don’t—”

“You don’t know?” Hansol stares at him. “You invited me here on my own after I told you how I feel a week ago, you specifically say my boyfriend can’t come, you hold my hand and buy my meal, and you don’t know?”

Mingyu sits there, wide-eyed, his mouth forming silent words. Hansol stands up.

“Call me when you know what you want, Mingyu.” He stands up, his chair scraping loudly as he leaves the table, but he doesn’t care, walking out of the restaurant and fighting back tears. He never cries, and he won’t make an exception for Kim Mingyu.

He walks down the street, reaches his bus stop, but the restaurant is still in sight, so he carries on, trying to get as far away from it as he can. He walks in a daze all the way home, and opens the door to an empty, dark apartment.

 

 

Seungkwan crawls in somewhere around midnight, and Hansol tries to pretend to be asleep, but Seungkwan knows him too well and he’s still too riled up to make his breaths even. Where a dancing heart once was, a painful weight in his chest is suffocating him, making him draw in short, angry breaths.

“Baby? How’d it go?” Seungkwan asks, trying to stave drowsiness from his voice as he pulls on his pyjamas. Hansol doesn’t reply, doesn’t have the words to explain, and he couldn’t even if he wanted to, with the clawing of regret and hurt crowding his throat, blocking it up, making it hard to swallow, never mind speak. He just reaches out for Seungkwan who slides into the bed, and buries his face in Seungkwan’s chest, who puts his arms around him. Gentle hands hold his shirt, a kiss finds his head.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” he whispers, as if he’s afraid of breaking Hansol. It’s pointless, because Hansol is already cracking at the seams, and he can’t will the tears away anymore. Seungkwan holds him tighter with concern. “Baby? What happened? You’re scaring me, c’mon.” He rubs at his back, trying to coax an answer out of him, and Hansol just shakes his head, smearing tears on Seungkwan’s t-shirt.

“I’m so stupid.” He doesn’t elaborate, but Seungkwan knows.

“You’re not stupid for loving people and wanting them to love you back.” He gets more kisses to his face and hair, and he can feel himself shaking in Seungkwan’s hold. “If Mingyu told you anything like that, I’ll kick him into next week.”

Hansol shakes his head again, breathes wetly, tries to swallow. The weight is still there, though eased a little by the smell of Seungkwan, by the feel of his soft shirt on Hansol’s cheek.

“He clearly doesn’t want it. I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up.”

Seungkwan holds him close, threads a hand through Hansol’s soft hair, still slightly damp from the shower he’d taken earlier. “Go to sleep, Hansol. I’ll talk to him in the morning. I love you.”

 

 

He drags himself to consciousness, the life of the bedroom filtering into his senses slowly. The light from the window hits his eyelids. The bedsheets cocoon him in a warm hold. He feels achy and exhausted from last night, as if he’d ran a marathon rather than having run from Mingyu. Seungkwan sounds like he’s on the phone to someone, not close by but not far away. Like he hadn’t wanted to wake Hansol up, but didn’t want to leave him either. He lies still and listens, not quite accepting his status as awake yet.

“You need to tell me what the hell you did, right now. He was so upset last night, Mingyu. I’ve never seen him like that.” His heart drops, and he tells himself to move, to stop listening, he doesn’t need this right now.

He continues laying there.

“Well, you must have done something. What happened last night?” He can hear Mingyu’s tinny voice speak for a minute or two but can’t make out any words.

“Yeah, I would be pretty mad if you’d done that to me, Mingyu. You can’t bring someone on a date when they don’t know if it’s a date. Especially if they already have a boyfriend, you fucking idiot.” Hansol opens his eyes. Seungkwan is stood in front of the bedroom door, looking out of the window in an unseeing way, before he closes his eyes and rubs his forehead in frustration at whatever Mingyu is saying.

“You can’t say you didn’t mean for it to be a date when you chose the most romantic setting possible. What you did is a textbook date. That wouldn’t have been a problem before all this, I know we’ve always been a bit unconventional, but you know full well the connotations now, right? What it means to Hansol?”

Mingyu’s voice rattles miserably through the line, and Seungkwan sighs.

“The thing is, Mingyu, I wouldn’t be mad if it were a date. Hansol certainly wouldn’t have been either. The problem is that we didn’t agree to anything: you didn’t tell us what you were thinking, because you don’t even know what you’re looking for. Now things are messy and confusing.” He pauses, but Hansol can’t hear Mingyu speak again.

“Here’s what we need to do. We need you to think about what it is you want. If you want to date Hansol, or me, or both of us, we can talk about that. We can figure something out. What we can’t do is mind read.” Seungkwan says, and Hansol feels a surge of love and appreciation for his boyfriend that overpowers his misery over the Mingyu mess. Not for the first time, Hansol is so glad for Seungkwan’s conviction. They’re all driven and ambitious and hardworking people, but Seungkwan undoubtedly has the most conviction, and the most leadership qualities. It’s helpful when they need something done, like complaining to the Landlord, or sorting out Mingyu’s shit.

“We both want you, Mingyu,” he continues, quieter, “in our lives. In whatever way you choose. So please choose, and come over, and we’ll talk about it.” There’s a single word from Mingyu over the line. Seungkwan opens his eyes again, meets Hansol’s look from the bed and straightens up, giving him an affectionate smile.

“It’s movie night tomorrow. Will you come?” His smile grows a little. “Okay. See you then. Bye.” He hangs up the phone and comes back to bed, gathering Hansol in his arms, who curls into him willingly.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better than yesterday,” Hansol answers in a croak. “Thank you for calling him.”

“The least I could do. He’s an idiot, but I think he’ll figure this one out. I’m still mad he upset you, though.”

Hansol sighs. “He didn’t mean to. I don’t blame him.”

“Well, don’t blame yourself either, okay?” He sits up and rubs Hansol’s arm. “Let’s seize the day, shall we? I called into work, so we have the morning to ourselves. I’m taking you for ice cream.”

 

 

He gets a text from Mingyu a few hours later.

 _Can I come see you after your classes?_ He looks at it, and passes the phone to Seungkwan, putting his focus back on his mint choc chip ice cream sundae.

“Are you going to say yes?”

Hansol looks very closely at his ice cream, scooping up the section that has the chocolate sauce. “Mm. Probably.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want, you know. You’ve earned some space, if you need it.”

“I don’t like fighting. I’ll talk to him. I’m just not thrilled about it.” He places the spoon in his mouth and pulls the ice cream off slowly.

“Okay.” Seungkwan answers easily, though Hansol can tell he’s anxious for them both to make up too. “Do you want me to come?”

“Nah. I can handle him, I think.” He smiles wryly. “Well, I can this time.”

 

 

He struggles to focus in his lectures, decides he’ll just blame Mingyu if he fails his degree, and leaves early. Mingyu is already in the café on campus where they’d agreed to meet, holding a latte and tapping at it nervously. He jumps a little when Hansol sits in the chair opposite him, and he wonders if this is where Mingyu was sat all those weeks ago, when he came to confess to Seungkwan.

“You’re early,” Mingyu says, recovering from his surprise.

“Skipped my last class,” Hansol answers shortly, and meets Mingyu’s eyes. Mingyu looks down at his drink quickly. The gash on his head is mostly healed now, just a scab emerging from his hairline.

“I’m really sorry, Hansol,” he starts, and clears his throat, scratches at the side of the glass. “I have no excuse for being a dick, but I can explain my thoughts to you.”

Hansol says nothing, but nods his head in acknowledgement.

“The truth is… I really like you. I’ve had feelings for the both of you for a while now, not just Seungkwan.”

Against his will, Hansol’s chest feeling is freaking out. He can’t quite believe what he’s hearing. He’d braced himself for being let down, not this wild hope that’s rising back up rapidly. He forces his face to stay passive.

“I was dealing with it on my own for a while. I don’t know why the engagement thing gave me a crisis, but it made everything so much worse… it made everything real, I suppose. I only confessed to Seungkwan about why I needed space because I thought it might be more acceptable to be into him? Rather than both of you? Since we dated before and everything. I didn’t want to scare you both away by seeming all weird and obsessive over your relationship.” He cringes at the very idea. “Everything would be easier now if I’d been honest then, though.” He’s still looking at the table, flicking his eyes up occasionally to look at Hansol, and back down again when he can’t hold his gaze. Hansol wants to tell him he understands, that it’s not all his fault, but holds his tongue until Mingyu is done.

“When you told me you liked me too, it was amazing. I thought about the Hyungs and thought, maybe one day we could be like that. When you mentioned it in the chat, it made me more excited, because it meant you’d been talking about it. But I didn’t know if it was what you wanted for yourself. So I wanted to take you on a date, even though I wasn’t sure if it was allowed. Even when we were there, I was telling myself it wasn’t a date, but then I was acting like that.” He sits back and lets out of a frustrated breath. “I don’t know what I was doing, Hansol. I guess I stopped thinking properly at some point. It was stupid. I’m really sorry. I should’ve spoken to you guys.” Finally, he looks up and holds Hansol’s gaze, and Hansol nods at him.

“I understand now you’ve explained, Mingyu. It makes me feel a lot better. It felt like you were stringing me on, last night. That’s why I was upset.” He scratches his head. “It’s not totally your fault, though. We should’ve involved you in the polyamory discussion. It would’ve made everything clearer, I think. We didn’t know what you wanted, but you didn’t’ know what we were thinking, either.”

Mingyu nods and shuffles in his seat, leans forwards with elbows on the table. “What… was said about that?” he asks, unable to contain his intrigue.

Hansol hums and shrugs playfully. “Maybe you should come to movie night tomorrow and we can all talk about it. I’m afraid I have a shift to get to.” He stands up and collects his bag, feeling lighter than air, like he could float away on a cloud of relief and happy anticipation.

Mingyu clutches his heart as if he’s in pain. “You’re killing me, Hansol.”

He flashes him a knowing smile and waves as he turns away, but feels his chest go back to its regularly scheduled jumping feeling at the blessed normalcy of the interaction. “Try and stay alive until tomorrow, Mingyu. I think you’ll appreciate it.”

 

-

 

They’re arguing over whether to watch Pirates of the Caribbean or Train to Busan when Mingyu knocks at the door. This is an immediate sign of Mingyu’s nerves, because Mingyu never knocks, not as long as Hansol has known him. He tends to stride into rooms like he has a right to be there, even when he started living separately to them. It makes Hansol feel bad for him, though Seungkwan opens the door raises an eyebrow mercilessly at the tall man in their doorway, still not quite over Hansol’s upset the other day. Seungkwan knows when to be kind, though, so he gently puts a hand to Mingyu’s back to usher him into the room. Hansol has taken the opportunity of Seungkwan’s momentary distraction to press play on Pirates of the Caribbean.

Mingyu holds up two big bags of popcorn. “I brought food,” he says, like he doesn’t always bring food on movie night.

Stop being so worried, Hansol thinks, it’s okay. Then again, it’s been a while since they’ve done movie night, and a lot has changed in that time. Not to mention they basically hold Mingyu’s romantic future in their hands. They should take pity on him. With that thought, Hansol pauses at the title screen, and waits for Seungkwan to come through with drinks.

“Hey! We’re watching Train to Busan!” Seungkwan says pointedly to Hansol as he dumps three cups and several bottles on the table without grace.

“We’ve seen Train to Busan a million times!”

“And you’ve tried to make us watch Pirates of the Caribbean a million times!”

“So how about you let me this time?”

“I would if the movie was worth it.”

Hansol gasps, scandalised. He knows a lost cause when he sees one, so he turns to Mingyu for backup.

“Mingyu, vote. Pirates of the Caribbean,” he points to himself, “or Train to Busan?” He points to Seungkwan.

Mingyu looks between them and blinks. “This isn’t a metaphor, is it?”

“It’s about movies, Mingyu,” Seungkwan says, deadpan.

Mingyu eyes them both suspiciously, and he can tell Seungkwan is a second away from bursting into laughter. “I’d rather watch Oldboy.”

Seungkwan lets out his laugh, with some derision. “You’re ridiculous. We’re definitely not watching Oldboy.”

“Let’s just put Black Panther on again,” Hansol suggests, which seems to please the room, even though half of their movie nights so far seem to have consisted of Black Panther. At this point it’s become an excuse, almost: they can have it playing and know what’s going on whilst not really paying attention, if they have work to do, or if they have something to talk about. There’s a tense silence as Hansol goes about putting the movie on, no one moving or speaking. As the opening credits start to roll, Mingyu finally releases his death grip on the popcorn, and it seems to stir Seungkwan into action.

“So, Hansol has relayed much of the situation to me, but just to confirm, Mingyu—when you told me you liked me, it would’ve been more accurate to say me and Hansol both, yes?”

Mingyu straightens up in his seat. “Yeah. I was worried about saying it at the time, but yes, that’s right.”

“So your feelings made you want space, but then you found out Hansol returned your feelings, and that made you change tactics…”

Mingyu coughs into his sleeve. “Do we have to go over everything? It’s embarrassing.”

“If we’re doing this, we’re going to get into a habit of talking honestly, Mingyu,” Seungkwan says, matter-of-fact. “We might’ve been doing this ages ago if we’d have been more open with each other. Well, if you guys were more open. I’ve mostly been brought along for the ride.”

Mingyu scratches behind one ear. “Okay. Then yes, I realised that there was attraction between most of us, and it made me wonder.” He looks at Seungkwan with big, hopeful eyes.

Seungkwan doesn’t miss the implication, but barrels on anyway. Hansol wonders if he’s talking so much because he’s worried about how Mingyu will take his own feelings. He can’t say it doesn’t make him nervous too.

“Hansol and I have been talking to the Hyungs about this polyamory thing, understanding what it means. We’re both up for trying it out, to see where it goes. But I should be clear.” He twists his fingers a little nervously. “I don’t have the same feelings for you Hansol does. But I like the idea of dating you.” He hesitates for a moment. “So if you’re willing to try with me, I would be happy for us all to date each other. But I don’t want to make false promises. So we take it slow. Or if you just want to date Hansol, we’ll have to think some more.”

Mingyu watches him as he finishes speaking. Then a smile grows on his face, making his eyes crinkle, and he ducks his head.

“That sounds really, really good. I’d love that.” His shoulders bunch up around his face, as if a weight has been lifted from him, and his shoulders are trying to kiss his cheeks in thanks. “Wow. Yeah.”

He can’t put his feelings into the right words, and Hansol can relate. There’s a tingling running through him as he realises that this is real: this possibility is becoming a reality, his crush is becoming his boyfriend, and his boyfriend’s boyfriend. He can’t stop himself from releasing a little giggle, which makes them look over at him with two fond smiles.

“You’re so cute.” Seungkwan reaches out to pinch his cheek, which makes him smile harder and put a hand to his forehead.

“I’m so relieved, you don’t even know.”

“Oh, I think I do know. I live with you, don’t I?” Seungkwan suddenly turns back to Mingyu. “That’s a point. Why did you move out? I was worried you were trying to pull away from us.”

“I was,” Mingyu replies. “I thought it would make things better. I was living with not one, but two crushes, and they’re dating each other? As much as I love you guys, it was exhausting.”

“Did it help?” Hansol asks.

Mingyu shrugs and looks at the sofa as he talks. “In some ways, yes. It gave me room to breathe. In a lot of ways, no. Every time we met up it felt like it got worse. And it reminded me that I was hiding everything from you, which made it all more complicated.”

“It’s kind of a good thing now, though. Kwan and I were dating for like… ten months? Before we moved in together. It would be weird trying to date someone you’re already living with.” Hansol points out, which makes Mingyu perk up again.

“Then again, we have so much to do between now and the end of term. We’re not going to have much time for dating stuff anyway,” Seungkwan points out.

“We can keep up with what we do already, though,” Hansol responds. “We were basically having regular dates every week last term. Now they can just be official dates.”

Seungkwan nods, considering, before he pulls a face. “I can’t believe we’re proving everyone we know right. They’ve always enjoyed teasing us three, and now we’re just following through on everything they’ve said.” Seungkwan seethes at the displeasure of ratifying their friends.

“To be fair, on the oldest Hyungs’ part, they might have been trying to make a point about their own relationship,” Mingyu says with a smirk. “Since everyone else was oblivious.”

“It’s not our fault they never talked about it! Or that you were part of their pact of silence!” Seungkwan protests.

“I wasn’t part of a pact! I just have eyes!” Mingyu argues, and Seungkwan threatens to take up a cushion as a weapon. Mingyu moves closer to Hansol, shielding himself behind him.

“There’s no escape from me now that you’re my boyfriend, Kim Mingyu!” Seungkwan declares, and makes his strike. The cushion hit lands mostly on Hansol’s arm, and Mingyu pokes his head over Hansol’s shoulder.

“Most people are only boyfriends after the first date, at least. Aren’t we taking this a little fast, Mr. Let’s-Take-This-Slow?”

“Well this is a date, isn’t it? So now you’re my boyfriend. Oh my God, this is our first date. And we’re watching Black Panther in the living room.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “My standards have fallen.”

“Hey!” Hansol says through a laugh. “Your boyfriends are right here!”

 

-

 

Seungkwan’s theory is proven right over the next few weeks. While they still meet up at their usual times through the week, they’re hampered by the end of term chaos. They manage an outing for Mingyu’s birthday, but Hansol has more and more deadlines, Seungkwan more and more rehearsals, and some days they don’t see each other at all. Hansol stays late in the studio working on tracks, Seungkwan rises early to head to classes. Mingyu slots in where he can, but he has his own hours of work in between auditions, so they’re relying on the upcoming spring break to give them breathing time.

Seungkwan’s end of term show is a success. They bring him a bouquet, as per usual, and he gives out hugs and cheek kisses. It’s a hurdle they’re learning to get over: trying to treat each other in an equal way, despite the glaring imbalance in their respective relationships. Fewer kisses for Hansol and Seungkwan (when in Mingyu’s presence), more hugs for Mingyu, three-way hand holding where possible. Hansol is happy with it, even if it makes Mingyu nervous he’s affecting Hansol and Seungkwan’s relationship. Seungkwan tells him to stop being stupid and doles out more affection to make up for it.

Though they both have assignments to finish through the break, especially Hansol’s major assignment, it’s a breath of fresh air to have the desperately needed free time. The Twice concert comes around, which Seungkwan attends with Soonyoung and Seokmin. Hansol and Mingyu take the opportunity to go on a picnic date, which requires an unprecedented amount of preparation from them. He thinks Seungkwan would be proud, even if most of it is pre-packaged fruit and Mingyu’s sandwiches. The weather is starting to get pleasantly warm, so they take the walk to the park hand in hand, each holding a bag of picnic food. It’s midday and mid-week, so it’s quiet, mostly clear areas of grass and an unobstructed view of the sparkling river. The occasional dog-walker passes through, and there’s one or two families spread out, parents relaxing on blankets trying to keep half an eye on their excited kids.

Mingyu sits them down far away enough to give them space, but not too far so they can still hear the life around them. Hansol likes it: the sense of community, having contact with the city he inhabits. He’s been holed up for so long working on his music that the light, the air, even the noise is refreshing.

“How are the tracks coming?” Mingyu asks, as if he can read his mind.

“Really good! They’re so fun to work on. I have so much I want to do, I lose track of time,” he admits.

“You’re telling me. I thought Kwan was going to lose his mind that time you fell asleep in the studio.”

Hansol cringes at the memory and reaches for his sandwich. “He’s a hypocrite, though. He was working, like, twenty-hour days when it came up to final rehearsals. If he’d had the time to stop for more than five seconds, he would have fallen asleep anywhere too!”

Mingyu smirks at him. “I don’t think you can question Seungkwan on these things. You know he’s always right, even when he isn’t.”

“Don’t I know it. When I get dressed in the morning he likes to remark on why every outfit I choose is inappropriate and unflattering. Though if you smile and nod enough, he wears himself out eventually.”

“He’s trying his best for you and your fashion taste,” Mingyu quips, biting into his own sandwich.

“Hey! My fashion taste is fine! I was the one who suggested your Christmas present!”

“It’s the best fashion choice you’ve ever made, and it wasn’t even for you,” Mingyu sniggers, and Hansol throws his bread crust at him.

“Did the shirt work though? Have auditions been better?”

Mingyu shrugs. “I’ve been taking it slower since my injury, but the ones I have been to… yeah, they’ve been good, I think. I got a call back for one or two, but I didn’t make it past the second round of auditions.”

He perks up. “That’s good improvement though! You’ll get something in no time!”

Mingyu shrugs again, but gives a small, hopeful smile. “That would be nice. Wonwoo got cast for a small role the other day, and Jun’s show airs next week.”

“They’ve been going to auditions for a year longer than you have, though. It just means it’s normal for you not to be finding anything right now.”

Mingyu nods, pops a strawberry into his mouth, and holds another one up as an offering to Hansol. He leans forward and bites into it, Mingyu watching intently as he licks the juice from his lips. Hansol smiles and looks down the river, where a dog is running up to their picnic blanket. It starts sniffing at the opened packet of chocolate, which Mingyu snatches up quickly. Hansol laughs and starts petting it as it sniffs their bags, offering it some ham. The dog accepts it enthusiastically, licking at his fingers as the owner runs up and starts apologising profusely. She lets them pet the dog for another minute before continuing her run.

Mingyu picks up their conversation as if it had never stopped. “I hope you’re ready to keep repeating that rhetoric when it comes to auditions. Now that Kwan’s nearly done with Uni, he’s going to be ruthless in looking for real stage roles.”

“It’s already begun. I had to beg him to put the phone down and stop scrolling through new musicals at like three in the morning, because he always has the screen on way too bright when I’m trying to sleep.”

Mingyu sighs. “I miss living with you guys. We should go somewhere together in summer, after you graduate.”

“Where are we going to go with our student budgets?”

“It doesn’t have to be abroad or anything. We could go to Busan! I’ve never been there.”

Hansol hums and picks up another strawberry. He bites off the end and offers the rest to Mingyu, who eats the rest of the strawberry out of his fingers, his lips brushing Hansol’s fingertips as he pulls away. He shoots him a sensual look, but he just reminds Hansol of the enthusiastic dog, and he breaks out into a little laugh, picking up another strawberry.

“Sure, we could go to Busan. I’ve only been once. Kwan would like the shops. I’d love to see Gwangalli beach this time.”

Mingyu beams. “Let’s do it then. I have enough vacation days left to fit around you guys.”

“We’ll work it out. Isn’t it important to celebrate graduation?”

“Of course. Let’s outdo the past two years. Meals and theme parks? Nothing compared to these plans.”

“The meal was your plan last year, though?”

“No…” Mingyu says, in a tone that says he knows perfectly well it was his plan.

When the sun starts to set, they pack up the picnic and walk along the river to see the colours reflect on the water. Pink clouds and smooth skies tint the waters with beauty, and when Mingyu kisses him it tastes like strawberries, his heart ready to burst from his chest.

 

-

 

Seungkwan goes on a date with Mingyu a few days later, and he comes back practically glowing.

“Have a good time?” Hansol questions from where he’s laid on the couch, the same spot he was in when Seungkwan left the house six hours ago. It was meant to be a three-way date, but he’s been anxious to give the other two time alone together, and anxious about getting through as much work as he could before his last batch of classes start.

Seungkwan smiles hard as he toes his shoes off. “I never knew Mingyu was such a romantic. We did the proper movie and restaurant date.”

“Did he walk you to the door afterwards?” Hansol watches him as he turns his face away, a blush creeping up his cheeks. “He did! Wow, I’ve met my match.”

“He’s more than your match, Chwe Hansol! You’ve never walked me anywhere.”

“I would’ve done if you’d ever lived further than three floors from me!” he protests.

“You could’ve walked me the three floors to my dorm,” Seungkwan says with an air of finality, sitting on the edge of the couch and looking disdainfully at Hansol’s laptop. “How are you still working on that thing?”

Hansol shrugs, and his bones creak. “Always more to do.”

Seungkwan puts a hand to his cheek and strokes the dark skin under his eye with the pad of his thumb. “You look tired. You should’ve come with us tonight.”

“I’m happy just knowing you’re happy,” Hansol says, and it’s true. The frustration of chasing this song in circles has vanished just by looking at Seungkwan’s content glow.

Seungkwan, however, isn’t impressed. “Will you at least come to bed now? You can work on it more tomorrow.”

He’d rather work on it until it’s done, but he knows his all-nighters worry Seungkwan, and he doesn’t want to spoil his good mood.

“Okay,” he concedes, and puts his laptop away and letting Seungkwan pull him to the bedroom.

 

 

School starts again. Seungkwan only has some small pieces of work left, some essays and assessments due in, and Hansol thinks his final grade will be good. His performance in the musical had been so vibrant, so enrapturing, he couldn’t get anything less than a perfect score, in his opinion. The performance will bring up whatever he gets for the small assessments.

Hansol, however, is buried so deep under last minute deadlines, classes, and shifts, that the days are starting to blur together. Seungkwan and Mingyu go on another date together that was supposed to be for the three of them.

“I can’t remember the last time you looked at something that wasn’t that screen, Hansol,” Seungkwan says. Mingyu is at the front door ready to pick them up, watching the argument go down. “Please come with us. Some fresh air will do you some good.”

“I can’t. This piece is due in so soon. I want to come, but I really can’t. I promise I’ll do everything you want when all my deadlines are over. It would feel weird for me, anyway.” They were headed to finally eat at the diner Hansol works at, as Seungkwan had never been there.

“Don’t you need to eat though? Come for the food, then you can go home again,” Seungkwan pleads. “Have you even eaten today?”

“Yes!” Hansol says defensively. He can’t actually remember if he has, but he must have. He doesn’t feel hungry or anything. “I’ll be fine!”

His attitude makes Seungkwan more concerned. “Maybe we shouldn’t go. You seem drained, Hansol.”

“Please go. I’m fine.”

“How about,” Mingyu interrupts, “Hansol goes to bed if we go out? That way you’re getting the rest that you—no offence—clearly need, and we’re still going out?”

He knows this is the best offer he’s going to get. “Yeah, fine,” he says, irked.

“Okay,” Seungkwan says, less surely. “Will you really go to bed?”

“I’ll be sound asleep when you come back,” Hansol promises. By which he means, he’ll jump into bed when he hears Seungkwan return. He can’t afford to waste time on this track.

“You’d better be.” Seungkwan points at him before turning to the door and passing Mingyu to leave the apartment, giving Hansol one last look.

Mingyu hovers in the doorway for a moment, looking at Hansol. “Call us if you need us, okay?”

Hansol nods impatiently. “Yeah. Bye.”

Mingyu gives him a long look before finally leaving, leaving blessed silence behind them. Hansol settles back into his couch dip to work on the track again, but his mood has considerably worsened, and however he tweaks the song, it sounds wrong. He’s too distracted. He and Seungkwan fight sometimes, usually when Hansol’s laidback nature conflicts with Seungkwan taking things too far, presses his opinions too overbearingly. It leaves them both unsure and light-footed for a day or so before they slot back into their comfortable back-and-forth. Seungkwan trying to pressure him into healthier patterns is one of them. Hansol knows he means well, but sometimes he just wants to eat junk food, or work on his projects through the night.

In this instance, though, he feels that maybe he shouldn’t have been snappy with them. They’re not wrong: he _is_ tired. Had his attitude affected them too much? He really wants them to have a good night together, and it’ll be his fault if they’re too down to enjoy it. Anxiety sits in his stomach. He really needs to get this work done, but the screen is swimming in front of him. He blinks tiredness out of his eyes, but it doesn’t make anything clearer. His stomach makes an alarming noise that indicates maybe he hasn’t actually eaten today after all. Sighing in defeat, he gets up to find a glass of water and see what they have left in the cupboards to eat. What they have left is some pot ramen and half a bottle of orange juice. He heats up the ramen and tries not to fall asleep on the kitchen counter before eating quickly and going back to work some more.

Progress doesn’t come easily, and when he looks up again the living room has gone dark around him. The sun has set, and his stomach is making noises again, and he quickly decides a trip to the toilet is in order. He doesn’t get very far. As soon as he stands he feels dizzy and goes to sit back down, only he loses his bearings and sits down hard on the floor, his hair flopping in his eyes. His stomach doesn’t like this and growls again, the pit of anxiety still lingering in his belly mixing with an unpleasant sick feeling. He leans forwards and tries to locate what’s wrong. It’s found for him when he promptly throws up the contents of his stomach on the floor, ramen and juice congealing together to create a pungent smell that makes him gag. He gets to his feet and stumbles blindly in the direction of the bathroom, knocking against the doorway before sitting down next to the toilet, retching into the toilet bowl. Some more ramen comes up, then nothing else, just his convulsions over the toilet bowl as his body tries to force up the nothing that’s inside of him. He wonders if this lack of control over his body is anything close to what Mingyu feels like, mid seizure.

When he blinks again, someone is there with a hand on his shoulder, shaking him. They’re saying his name, but his head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton wool, and he can’t really process what he’s seeing. He wants to sleep, so he puts his head down on the toilet seat, the figure in front of him trying to hold his head to stop him. He’s so tired. Has he finished throwing up yet? He must have, if he’s sat so still. He doesn’t want to move a single limb, but the person keeps gripping onto him as if it’s urgent he moves, now. He doesn’t let this stop him from closing his eyes. Can’t he just sleep here? A second figure moves closer, hooks an arm around his back and under his legs, and picks him up. The movement makes him groan, but it does remove him from whatever was smelling so bad, so he can’t be too mad. He buries his face in something soft and sighs, drifting off into blissful sleep.

 

 

When he comes to, it’s difficult to open his eyes. His eyelids are stuck together with old sleep and his body feels like it weighs a thousand tonnes. His ears tune into a faint noise, some sort of music, light and artificial. When he manages to crack open an eye, he’s face to face with Seungkwan who’s on his phone, and identifies the music to be the game he’s addicted to. He exhales through his nose, which is enough to alert Seungkwan of his consciousness.

“Hansol!” he says, dropping his phone, immediately apologising when Hansol winces at his volume. “You’re awake! How do you feel? What happened?” He cups Hansol’s face in his hands, like he thought he’d never see it again.

“How long was I asleep for?” Hansol asks, his voice hoarse and scratchy.

“Over sixteen hours, you absolute idiot. How many times have I told you your terrible sleep pattern would bite you on the ass?”

“Sixteen hours?” Hansol exclaims, and struggles to sit up, though his muscles fight him on it, punishing him with an aching pain. Seungkwan pushes him right back down again.

“Hey! You’re not going anywhere, Hansol. You’re sick!”

“I’m not sick—" Hansol protests, but Seungkwan isn’t having it.

“Not sick! You’re lucky we didn’t phone an ambulance. We came back to find you asleep on the toilet seat, Hansol, with puke in three different places across our tiny apartment. You are staying in bed until I say so.”

He doesn’t remember any of that. He does remember the date, and the argument, which instantly brings back the guilt, and he sinks back into the bedsheets.

“Sorry for ruining your night,” he murmurs.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Seungkwan says, firm. “Just added a bit of excitement to it, is all.”

He isn’t fooled. Seungkwan is a worrier at the best of times, and the way he’s watching him so closely now, treating him so gently, means he’s been fretting beside him for the past sixteen hours. He pulls a face, and Seungkwan pokes him.

“Really. It was super nice. I don’t know if you’ve ever eaten the food where you work, but it’s really good.” He pauses, but Hansol doesn’t say anything. “And we kissed at the end of the night.”

That makes him look up. “Really?”

Seungkwan smiles. “Yeah. I told him I’ve been feeling more excited to be with him, that I think old feelings are growing again. I can tell he’s been nervous with me, so. I wanted to reassure him. Kissed him when we got to the door. Thank god I didn’t wait until we were inside to find your puke in the living room.”

It makes Hansol smile, despite himself. Maybe it wasn’t a complete failure of a night, then. “Has he been here too?”

“We’ve been taking turns to stay awake with you. He was here up until about half an hour ago, when he went to get food.” Right on time, the sound of the front door opening echoes through the apartment, and Seungkwan sits up. “Do you feel up to some soup?”

Hansol grimaces. “I don’t know. I’d rather shower first, I feel gross.”

“You puked up everything in your stomach yesterday. You need to eat something.”

“You’re awake!” Mingyu appears at the doorway, laden with bags, which he drops to come over to the bed. “Do you feel okay?”

“Mmm. Mostly tired,” Hansol affirms. “Can you tell him to let me shower?”

“You haven’t had proper food in nearly two days. You need to eat and drink first, or you might pass out under the hot water,” Mingyu says, and he can feel Seungkwan’s triumph radiating from him, though he has the bedside manners not to gloat.

“Have some soup and bread, first. Then I’ll come and shower with you.” The compromise is a fair one.

“Fine,” Hansol grumbles, and Mingyu heads out to put some soup on. He barely even complains when Mingyu starts feeding him. Considering the stress he’s put them under over the last twenty-four hours, he thinks it’s probably fair to let them baby him a bit now. Seungkwan keeps impulsively putting a hand to his forehead, as if his temperature might be changing every two minutes. It is kind of nice, to be looked after, especially as he still feels exhausted all over. He manages to finish most of the bowl, which seems to satisfy his boyfriends.

“Shower now?” he asks. The greasy hair in his eyes is driving him crazy.

“Yeah,” Seungkwan agrees, pushing his fringe back for him. “You smell.”

“I’ll come by again after work,” Mingyu offers, and Seungkwan nods, but Hansol protests.

“I’ll probably just be asleep again by then. I’m so tired. There’s no point.”

“There’s a point, Hansollie,” Mingyu says. “I want to look after you. Shall I send your track to Jihoon? He can let you know if it sounds finished or not.”

The suggestion makes his knot of underlying anxiety loosen a little. “Yeah, please. That would be great, actually.”

Mingyu nods easily. “I’ll do that, then. Let us look after you for a bit, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Hansol whispers, suddenly overwhelmed. He swallows down a lump in his throat and offers a hand to Seungkwan, who helps him out of the bed. He feels a little unsteady on his feet at first, but it’s mostly due to drowsiness rather than sickness, and he finds his bearings quickly. “Thanks, guys.”

“Anything for you, Hansol,” Seungkwan replies warmly, leading him to the bathroom with both hands clasped in his.

 

 

Jihoon tells him to fill in the empty parts with another harmony, which is lifesaving advice. After some coercion Mingyu gets behind his haphazard sound wall and records some low parts to frame Seungkwan’s voice. When the mixing is done, Hansol is finally satisfied. He adds the track to his final portfolio and sends it off to his professor, much to Seungkwan and Mingyu’s relief, who cajole him straight back into bed. He pulls them onto the mattress either side of him, feeling safe and warm as he drifts back to sleep.

 

-

 

After that, graduation comes around very suddenly, and both Hansol and Seungkwan’s parents are squashed into their tiny flat, socialising ahead of the ceremony that evening. There’s a little awkwardness: Hansol’s dad hadn’t realised Seungkwan’s parents were divorced and had asked how long they’d been married; their mothers are trying to meet half way between Korean and English; Mingyu is trying to dodge career questions from everyone involved. He’s mostly successful by taking up conversation with Sofia, who he gets along with very well. This is fortunate, as the plan is for Mingyu, Sofia, and Seungkwan’s sisters to wait at the flat then meet them at the restaurant later. Hansol wishes him good luck.

Graduation itself goes well. When Seungkwan goes up on stage his smile is blinding even from where Hansol is sitting on the other side of the auditorium, and he wishes Mingyu were here to feel as proud as he is. Even though he’d finished his degree months ago, he embraces feeling the pride surge in his chest as he shakes a hand and receives his diploma, his achievement a physical weight in his hand, something he can look at and say yes, I did that.

He’s thankful someone thought ahead to reserve a table for ten as the restaurant is packed with other graduating students and their families. No relative blinks an eye at Mingyu’s presence, even if the boy himself had worked himself up over it the night before.

“I’ve already graduated, it doesn’t make sense for me to be there! It’s for your families to celebrate with you.”

“You’re our boyfriend. You are our family,” Seungkwan points out.

“They don’t know that!”

“Well maybe we should tell them,” Hansol says. Mingyu looks at him like he’s crazy.

“Why?”

“We’ve been dating for a few months now. We’re planning to move back in together over summer. They have to know sometime, don’t they?”

Mingyu sits down heavily, looking bowled over, but Seungkwan nods in agreement.

“Our families will be together, we can hit two birds with one stone.” He puts a hand on Mingyu’s arm. “You don’t have to tell your family yet. I can ask mine to keep quiet about it.”

“I was planning on never telling them,” Mingyu admits. “I forget other people have healthy, open relationships with their parents.”

“We don’t have to if you’re scared,” Hansol offers, but Mingyu shakes his head.

“If you want to tell them, I’ll support you. I’m not going to stop you from being honest with your parents.”

“You don’t have to be there if you’re worried. I don’t know if it’ll go perfectly,” Seungkwan says, squeezing his shoulder.

Mingyu puts his hand over Seungkwan’s and looks up at him. “I’ll be there.”

So there they are, scarfing down some bulgogi, nervously waiting for an opening in the conversation to drop in the acquisition of another boyfriend. Funnily enough, it doesn’t come along easily, so in typical Seungkwan fashion he makes an opportunity of his own.

“So Mingyu, where do you live now?” Seungkwan’s Ma asks.

Mingyu swallows a mouthful of food. “I’m living with my friends Wonwoo and Jun, on the other side of the city.”

Before his Ma can reply, Seungkwan jumps in. “For now, he is! We’re thinking of moving in together again soon, when our lease is up.”

Seungkwan’s Dad looks up in confusion. “The three of you?”

Hansol’s father also looks to his son, and Hansol nods in confirmation.

“Yeah,” he says, switching to English. “We want to move back in together.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little unfair to Mingyu?” his Dad asks, and Mingyu looks up at the mention of his name, sensing what’s going on.

Hansol takes a deep breath. “Actually, it would be more unfair for him to live away from us. We started dating a couple months ago.”

His Mom frowns at him. “You and Mingyu?”

“All three of us are dating each other,” he says calmly, though he can feel his blood rushing in his ears. It’s a little consoling that Sofia is completely unbothered by the revelation, happily following the conversation whilst chewing on her kimchi.

He can hear Seungkwan having the same conversation in Korean beside him. “How can you date two people at once?” his Ma is asking.

“The same way you can date one person at once,” Seungkwan answers.

He’s expecting a similar barrage of questions from his own parents, but to his surprise, his Dad just nods as if it makes perfect sense.

“You know, our neighbours back in New York had a whole group of people coming and going to their flat. A very interesting set of characters. We could never figure out if they were friends or flatmates or what. We had a very educational conversation with them over a cup of coffee one evening.” He smiles at his son warmly. “As long as you’re happy, Hansol. Happy and safe, then we’ll support you.”

Hansol sits back in his chair, defeated by his parents’ easy acceptance. He looks at his Mom, who is looking at his Dad, but then looks over to him with a beaming smile. “Yes, that’s right. As long as you’re happy.” She reaches across the table to take his hand. “How special you are, Hansol! To have two boyfriends!”

Hansol could cry from relief. His parents are the most liberal, chill people ever, so he’s not sure what he was expecting, but it was still a scary thing to reveal something so important, to hope you’d be accepted and loved regardless. He’s hit with a wave of keen appreciation for his family, cemented when Sofia reaches up a hand to pat his cheek, as if to say, silly boy! You thought we’d reject any part of you?

“Thank you,” he says, quiet, exhilarated. His Mom squeezes his hand, reassuring.

Seungkwan, however, doesn’t seem to be having such an easy time of it.

“But what will people say?” his Ma is saying, and Seungkwan is exasperated.

“All the same things they were already saying, Ma. I’m a gay man with a boyfriend and a degree in Musical Theatre. What’s the big difference between one boyfriend and two?”

“I just don’t understand why you need two, Seungkwannie. Won’t one do?” She turns to Mingyu apologetically, who shrinks into his seat. “I have nothing against you of course, dear, but you’ll face trouble, won’t you? How will you live? It’s not safe!”

Seungkwan tugs at his own earlobe as if he’d quite like to rip his ears off and avoid hearing the rest of this conversation. “Ma, please don’t ask my boyfriend to break up with me. He makes me happy. I want to date both of them. You don’t have to like it, but that’s what’s happening.”

Everyone at the table holds their breath at the bold response. Seungkwan’s chopsticks are shaking in his hand, and his Dad watches the conversation without a word, as Seungkwan and his Ma look at each other in deadlock. It makes sense, Hansol thinks, that the only person to match Seungkwan, the only worthy opponent, is his mother. Finally, his Ma goes back to her food.

“Keep in mind what I’ve told you, dear. It’ll be difficult.”

Seungkwan doesn’t argue anymore, just gives a curt nod of recognition and takes a big mouthful of bibimbap.

“So where are you guys looking for the new apartment?” Hansol’s father says, in Korean, attempting to smooth out the conversation. In his mind, Hansol urges Mingyu to speak up, but the boy is looking guiltier by the second, and Seungkwan is still furiously chewing, so he takes up the reigns.

“If I get the internship, somewhere close by. If not, somewhere close to the other side of town, for their auditions. Mingyu has another one coming up soon, actually.” He nudges Mingyu into action, and to his credit, the boy recovers well enough to start babbling about the auditions he has lined up. After that, the conversation goes back to some sense of normalcy, if not for Seungkwan and his Ma avoiding direct conversation with each other.

At the end of the night, Hansol’s family hug him and his boyfriends, which he appreciates. Mingyu has been looking uncertain all night, so he hopes the reaction from his family will do some positive reinforcing. They wave off the car as Seungkwan is walking his family to their own car. Even as Hansol’s family turn the corner, they wait further down the road for Seungkwan to be done, seeing him in discussion with his Ma again.

“The argument wasn’t your fault, you know,” Hansol starts tentatively, slipping his hand into Mingyu’s.

“Yeah,” Mingyu says softly. “Still didn’t feel good, though.”

Hansol nods at that. He understands the irrational guilt. A minute later, Seungkwan is waving to the car pulling away, and walking back over to them.

“I’m sorry about her. I didn’t think she’d take it that badly.” He bites his lip. “She’ll come around.”

“Did your sisters say anything?” Hansol asks.

“Jinseol and my Dad said they loved me. Sojeong told me to do whatever I wanted.” He gives a wry smile. “My sisters are cool and my dad is a pushover, so. That’s fine. Ma’s the main hurdle. I wonder if she’ll ever have the courage tell Grandma.” His lip wobbles, and Hansol brings him into a hug just before the waterworks start. Mingyu wraps them both in his arms, stroking Seungkwan’s hair as he cries.

“My Dad got your Ma’s contact details. He said he would message her sometimes. Talk about us supportively on the down low.” Hansol kisses Seungkwan’s cheek. “You did really well tonight.”

“I’m so proud of you. I could never have done that,” Mingyu agrees.

“Thanks,” Seungkwan says, voice watery. “Your parents took it really well, huh?” He pulls out of the hug and wipes at his eyes, looking at Hansol.

“Yeah. Better than expected. Really good.” Hansol links an arm with Seungkwan as Mingyu wipes away some stray tears.

“Well, that’s something at least. I’m happy for you. Your parents are so good, Hansol.”

“Yeah. I’m grateful.”

Seungkwan turns to a quiet Mingyu, links his other arm with him. “You’re not feeling guilty are you? Because I forbid it.” Mingyu shifts a little, shrugs as they start walking, the path ahead lit up with street lights.

Seungkwan continues. “You know, she just asked me if I was pressured into this by Hansol’s ‘American ideas’. We’re all in hot water with her until she can get her head around it. Don’t feel guilty. It’s not your fault.”

“Wow, thanks for that,” Hansol says drily, but he sees Mingyu’s mouth twitch into the ghost of a smile. He leans in front of Seungkwan to bring Mingyu down into a chase kiss. Seungkwan happily follows suit, before kissing Hansol too, looking beautiful despite his tear-tracked face. They walk into the pleasant warmth of the night together, heading for home.

 

 

Later, as they’re squashed together on the bed (they’ll have to buy a bigger one in the next place), Hansol sits upright in shock, staring at his phone screen. Seungkwan, who was mostly asleep, jolts and nearly falls off the edge of the mattress with the movement. Mingyu snatches out to hold him in place, before looking around at Hansol.

“What is it?” he asks urgently, and Seungkwan scrabbles at the mattress trying to get secure again.

Hansol is gaping at the e-mail, reading it over and over. “I…I got the internship!”

“What!” Seungkwan screeches, now wide awake. “Hansol!” He’s promptly suffocated on both sides by enthusiastic hugs. “I told you, didn’t I! That they’d see your potential!”

“Our clever Hansollie!” Mingyu croons, pressing kisses into Hansol’s hair.

Hansol can’t resist the huge grin settling on his face, and leans into their touches, laughing with surprised delight.

 

-

 

They grab an apartment quickly after that. It’s difficult to find something central to the studios, the theatres, and Hansol’s new internship building, but they make do, going closer to the Sony Music tower than anything. The logic is that Hansol has to go there five days a week for the next year, but Seungkwan and Mingyu are still looking for potential roles, and spend the rest of the time in their respective jobs in the city anyway. Hansol tries to argue, but his boyfriends are an unstoppable force when they want to be.

“Besides, you’re the main breadwinner, now. Your internship pays better than either of our jobs,” Seungkwan points out.

“God, it’s still so surreal,” he says, looking at the resignation form in front of him. While he’s excited to start his dream placement, he’s going to miss the cute diner.

Mingyu is still eager to do the trip to Busan, so they make time just before the start of Hansol’s internship and book three nights in a popular seaside hotel. Mingyu is practically bouncing in his seat the whole train ride there, causing Seungkwan to coo and pinch his cheek as if he’s a particularly cute child.

His prediction about Seungkwan enjoying the shops was right, but he’s pleasantly surprised to find a lot of them intrigue him too. It’s a big city, and when he finds a nook of streets with odd ornaments and alternative clothing, it’s hard to drag him away. They eventually strike a middle ground when they find a huge music shop holding all sorts of goodies. Shopping eats up their day until hunger drives them to splash some cash on a nice restaurant that overlooks the sea. The July warmth means that even as it presses on into the evening, it’s still light enough to see, and warm enough to walk along the beach in shorts.

As they sit down on the sand to watch the last of the sunset, the conversation turns back to the internship. He thinks they might be more excited than he is.

“Are you nervous?” Mingyu asks.

“Of course. New things are always scary. I’m more excited though, so it’s okay.”

“You’ll do fine, either way,” Seungkwan says, sifting sand through his fingers. “Jihoon’s internship led to the job he wanted, so. The opportunity is amazing.” They’re watching the last of the burning reds set beyond the waves, the dark creeping up on them.

“You’ll find something too, Kwan,” he says kindly. “You both will, in time.”

“That would be nice,” Mingyu remarks. “It’s maddening to just try and wait and try some more and wait some more and feel like you’re getting nowhere.”

“Patience isn’t my strong suit,” Seungkwan agrees. “But this isn’t about us. We’re celebrating you.”

“My family have been sending me congratulations since graduation. Random aunts and cousins giving me calls and shit. I guess my parents have been passing on the news.”

“Your family are so cute.” Mingyu lays back on the sand, arms behind his head, smiling up at him.

“Yeah.” He smiles. “Did your sister earn enough to fly over again this summer?”

“Yeah, she’s coming for a bit in August. I was thinking I might tell her. About us.”

Hansol looks at him in surprise. “I thought you didn’t want to tell your family?”

“My sister is different. She’s good. She’s seventeen, so she has enough sense not to tell my parents, and I’d like her to know.”

“Then tell her,” Seungkwan prompts. “We trust her. It would be good for you to have someone else talk to about it, outside of us. We really should tell our friends sometime, you know.”

“Probably. It’s just hard to bring it up, isn’t it? Not easy to drop into conversation,” Hansol says.

“It’s awkward for me. I feel like the addition whenever I try to explain it,” Mingyu pouts.

“For God’s sake.” Seungkwan rolls his eyes and takes out his phone. “I’ll show you how it’s done.”

Hansol doesn’t bother looking at the notification that buzzes his phone, though he takes it out another minute later when his phone threatens to explode with messages.

_Just so everyone knows, me n Hansol are dating Mingyu now, thnks for coming 2 my ted talk._

_You copycat,_ Joshua writes.

 _Is this a recent development, or are you only just letting us know?_ Wonwoo teases.

 _Yeah, this is much less of a surprise than the 95 Hyungs,_ Jihoon supplies.

“See, they’re not even bothered,” Seungkwan says, laughing.

Hansol is smiling at his phone. “They’ve always been a step ahead of us with assessing our relationship.”

 _I feel like my friends just cant stop dating each other,_ Chan puts in the chat. _Soon I’ll be in a thirteen-way relationship and not know how I got there._ A response comes quickly, a picture of Seokmin and Minghao making kissy faces at the camera, and then another of Minghao kissing Seokmin’s cheek. _Disgusting,_ Chan responds.

“Did we miss something?” Mingyu asks in surprise. “Minghao and Seokmin?”

Seungkwan blinks at the screen. “If Seokmin didn’t tell me about this, I swear—” He cuts himself off by furiously typing a long message with a lot of exclamation marks to Seokmin.

“We should meet up with everyone again, when we can,” Hansol remarks. “I miss them.”

They stay on the beach until late, making plans for the next day and watching the black sky, Hansol imagining the stars that are hiding behind city pollution. The cityscape is lit up in pretty neons and glowing lights, so he turns to watch that too. Maybe they should go out to the countryside someday and see the stars for real, he thinks. Eventually, Seungkwan starts to get cold, so they head back to the hotel, hand in hand along the cooling sand.

 

 

Hansol wakes up the next morning to the gentle touch of sunlight on his face, streaming in through half-open blinds. He’s surprised to find Mingyu already awake beside him, the luxury of the hotel bed fitting the three of them comfortably.

“Good morning,” he croaks, stretching, pushing the sheets off himself in the process.

“Good morning,” Mingyu replies quietly, so as not to wake Seungkwan.

“You okay?” Though Seungkwan likes to sleep the most of the three of them, it’s unusual for Mingyu to wake up earlier than Hansol. Mingyu pauses for a second, then says,

“Yeah. I’m great.”

They’d made plans to go to Yongdusan Park that day, which google had recommended to them for the shrines, the views, and scenic route up the mountain. They set out an hour later, slathered in sun cream and dressed for a short hike.

Mingyu is uncharacteristically quiet on the journey there, and Seungkwan too, questions his health.

“You feeling alright, babe?”

Mingyu just nods as they step off the bus and start along the path that leads to the bottom of the mountain. Hansol and Seungkwan share a glance, but continue their conversation about Minghao and Seokmin.

“Seokmin told me they’d gone on a date not long after the Soonhoon engagement party, but they were taking things slow and focusing on school, so they didn’t tell anyone for a while,” Seungkwan informs him, sipping at his iced americano as they walk. “They got together officially in March, started telling people in May. We’ve not seen them since then, so I guess the message just didn’t reach us until now.”

“Wow, that’s so cool! They’re cute together. We have to meet up this summer.”

They reach the bottom of the mountain, and start to feel beginnings of the inclining path ahead of them.

“I think I’m going to be tired by the end of the day,” Seungkwan remarks, squinting up the slope. “I hope these views are worth it. I have high, Jeju standards.”

“Does Jeju have any shrines on the top of mountains, though?” Hansol asks, and Seungkwan turns around to answer, but stops as he looks behind them. Hansol looks around too. Mingyu is still stood at the bottom of the path, looking up at them with big eyes.

“Mingyu?”

Mingyu says something, but it’s quiet, and he’s stood fifteen feet away, so they skid back down the slope to stand by him.

“You okay?”

“I don’t think I can,” Mingyu says, his voice low and embarrassed. “I thought I could push through it, but this is…”

“What is it?” Seungkwan asks, attentive.

“I feel pretty bad,” Mingyu mumbles.

“Like, seizure bad?” Seungkwan asks.

“Yeah.” It’s almost a whisper, and his gaze is fixed on a fern ahead of him.

Hansol touches Seungkwan’s arm and speaks up first to prevent him from going into fussing mother mode. “Thank you for telling us, Mingyu. Don’t stress about it, okay? We can go back to the hotel, it’s fine.”

Mingyu sighs, closing his eyes. “I wanted to do this with you guys.”

“We can do it another day,” Seungkwan says, making an attempt to sound calm and collected, which Hansol appreciates. “Don’t worry, seriously.”

They spend a quiet ride back, Mingyu resting on Seungkwan’s shoulder despite the sweaty bus interior. They don’t quite manage to get back to their room in time, the sound of Mingyu hitting the hotel lobby floor making him cringe and crouch down quickly. Seungkwan deals with the panicked receptionist as Hansol stays by Mingyu, who seems unhurt, but is going to have some nasty bruises where he’s convulsing against the tiled floor. He wonders if Mingyu had been awake for hours before they were, trying to convince himself he was okay as the sun rose. It seems to last forever, with people filtering in and out of the lobby trying to give them space, the doorman on the verge of calling for an ambulance. When it’s finally over, they come to him and kiss his forehead and Hansol ties his jacket around Mingyu’s waist for the sake of his pride. Their room is on the seventeenth floor, so they help him into the elevator and pray the movement doesn’t make him queasy. Between them, they manage to get him into bed without further trouble, helping him change his clothes and tucking him under the sheets.

“Sorry,” Mingyu says as he’s drifting off.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Seungkwan reminds him, and he nods sleepily as Hansol wiggles under the covers with him. Seungkwan strokes his hair, and they both watch him fall asleep.

 

 

They spend the rest of the day watching movies, a familiar activity between them by now, that Mingyu eases into when he wakes up. Hansol goes to fetch them lunch, Mingyu falls asleep again, but by dinnertime he’s awake and insisting he’s well enough to go out again.

“Just to the ground floor restaurant? I’ll go crazy if you make me stay in this bed anymore.”

“Do you really feel alright?” Seungkwan asks dubiously.

“I’m not the best I’ve ever been, but I’m alright enough to go for food. Let’s not waste any more time in this room, please.”

They go for food and Mingyu seems to regain some energy, so they venture out to walk along the pier together, as it isn’t too far from the hotel. Seungkwan is hovering a bit, touchy with Mingyu, but Mingyu doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he leans into the touch, and pulls Hansol into his other side, draping an arm over his shoulders.

“Why didn’t you tell us this morning?” Seungkwan asks eventually.

“I felt bad, but I wasn’t convinced it was that bad. I was hoping it might go away if I got up. Then we got to the mountain and I realised I was being too hopeful.”

Seungkwan nods and leans his head on Mingyu’s arm. “I’m glad you told us, rather than trying to push it. We have two more days here, you know. Loads of time to do whatever we want. Having a day inside isn’t the worst thing we could be doing.” They know how much it pains Mingyu to allow his epilepsy to debilitate them, but sometimes, it can’t be avoided. Mingyu will always be their priority, anyway, over any mountain or beach.

Mingyu nods, giving him a small smile. “Can we go on the amusements and forget about it now, though?” He indicates his head to where the pier has a row of attractions ahead of them, lights on the stalls making an inviting glow in the dying light of day.

Hansol grins. “I’m going to beat you at hoopla.”

“You wish!” Mingyu suddenly takes off towards to hoopla stand to get the first game in.

“You’re actual children!” Seungkwan shouts after them as they race off. “Wait for me!”

 

 

Mingyu doesn’t sleep well again, so they decide to take it easy the next day and stay close by, visiting the giant aquarium in the centre of the city. Hansol is particularly attached to the stingray but is eventually pulled away by Mingyu to peer into the shark tank. Seungkwan requests a photoshoot against a beautifully vibrant tank of jellyfish. They’re glowing so brightly he mostly comes out as a silhouette against the tank, so he drags Mingyu into the picture and brings him into a kissing pose. He’s delighted enough by the result to insist Hansol come and do the same, so he can post a set on Instagram. He obeys, ignoring the mother herding her children away from them in favour of kissing Seungkwan sweetly.

When they sit down for lunch he goes to leave a like at Seungkwan’s post. It has various nice comments from their friends, but one from Seungcheol makes him look at the photoset again. _Don’t devour each other in front of the innocent jellyfish, please._ He flicks through the three photos. He and Mingyu are holding each other’s hands in comfortable affection, whilst he and Seungkwan look like a happily married couple, arms around each other in front of the glowing tank. Mingyu and Seungkwan, however, look like they’re about to pounce on each other. Mingyu is holding Seungkwan’s butt, leaning down into the kiss like a movie star, and Seungkwan grasps Mingyu’s hair, happily reciprocating. He’d been the one to take the picture, but now looking at the finished product, he feels like he’s looking at something private.

The realisation makes him starts noticing things over the course of the afternoon. Seungkwan buys them ice creams, and while Hansol accepts his with an easy thank you _,_ Mingyu pays his thanks in a deep kiss that Seungkwan giggles into, grasping onto Mingyu’s arm and squeezing the bicep, wiggling his eyebrows as he pulls away. Mingyu places a teasing kiss on his neck as Seungkwan turns away to lead them down the street, glowing. He’s about to chase after him when he notices Hansol falling behind, ice cream dripping down his hand as he gapes at them, and grabs onto his other hand to pull him along. Gives him a kiss too, tasting of mint ice cream, but it holds none of the sexual tension Seungkwan and Mingyu are carrying.

 

 

“You know you guys can have sex, if you want to,” he says to them over dinner that night. Seungkwan abruptly chokes on his drink, so Mingyu pats him on the back dutifully whilst looking at Hansol.

When his lungs have cleared and he’s fully red in the face, Seungkwan responds. “What?”

“If you’re waiting for me, you don’t have to.” He glances at Mingyu, not sure how to say it without sounding rude. “I don’t want… I’m not quite ready for anything yet, personally. But I don’t want that to stop you guys.”

“It’s okay,” Mingyu says, understanding. “Take the time you need.”

A thought strikes Hansol. “How far did you guys get when you dated before?”

“Not that far,” Seungkwan says, still flushed. “Are you really sure? We can wait, Hansol.”

“Of course I’m sure. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t.” This, at least, erases any last concerns he had about Seungkwan’s feelings for Mingyu. “Maybe not while I’m in the bed with you, though.”

Mingyu and Seungkwan hurriedly agree, Mingyu smiling into his plate, and exchanging a look with Seungkwan, who smirks and looks back at Hansol. “What brought this on?”

“Oh, you know,” he says airily. “Just communicating. Like we agreed.” He raises an eyebrow at them.

“It’s not like we’ve been dying to get into each other’s pants,” Seungkwan says defensively.

“Speak for yourself,” Mingyu mutters.

“We just wanted you to be comfortable before we brought anything up.”

“I can talk about sex, you guys,” Hansol says, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “You of all people should know that, Kwan. I just need some more time for myself, but that doesn’t need to stop you two.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry,” Seungkwan says, appropriately ashamed. He feeds him a meatball in apology.

“We didn’t mean to leave you out of anything,” Mingyu adds.

“Don’t worry about it. I get it. We’re figuring things out,” he says, chewing on the meatball with appreciation.

 

 

They manage to make it to Yongdusan park on their last day in Busan. The views across the sea are beautiful, and Mingyu takes about a million pictures of the shrines, and it’s a serene end to their holiday. They sit on a bench to eat their sandwiches and look out at the waves, and it reminds Hansol of Jeju, lying in the clearing and wishing he could stay there forever. He thinks that perhaps he’d managed to keep some of that feeling, capture it close to his heart, and make it his reality, sitting between the two people he loves the most in the world.

 

-

 

Mingyu’s sister arrives to spend a few days with her brother during her summer break. It’s hectic, as it’s on the first day after they move into the new, three-person one-bedroom apartment and right before the start of Hansol’s internship. She’s all too happy to sleep on their sofa for a few days, but they take her out to the National History Museum in the city centre to apologise anyway. Mingyu fiddles with his fingers and works up the courage to tell her when they’re stood looking at a row of mummies, and she just nods and says _Yeah, that makes sense_.

Hansol starts his internship on the last day of her trip, so he wishes her a safe journey home before heading out to work. Mingyu and Seungkwan wake up specially, Mingyu making him breakfast while Seungkwan gives out sleepy encouragements and fashion advice. He’s not too anxious on the bus ride there: after all, the company have committed to keeping him for the next year at least, and he’d have to seriously fuck up to cut that short. He knows he has a lot to learn, and that he’ll be stuck on menial tasks at the start. That’s okay. He knows how to work hard for what he wants.

The regular work hours are tough on his irregular sleep pattern at first, making him exhausted for the first week or two. As time goes on, the glamour of something new wears off and he finds himself frustrated and unhappy. University had allowed him to grow and create and hone his skills, and as exhausting as the assignments had been, they were always so fulfilling. This internship was nothing like that. Most days, he was stuck processing and categorising files, or if he was lucky, old tracks the company were reorganising. On the third week, he sees one of his producer role models, Bumzu, walk through the building, and spends the rest of the afternoon daydreaming about him producing in a studio somewhere above him. It delays his usual productivity, and he has to stay an hour overtime.

On that day, he comes back to find Mingyu and Seungkwan in the shower together, Seungkwan’s singing loud and proud and echoing around the apartment, with sweaty bedsheets left behind them. He dutifully changes the sheets and collapses into the king-size mattress, happy that at least his boyfriends seem to be making some progress in their lives. They’ve both been frustrated by a lack of results from auditions, so he’s occasionally come home to a moody Seungkwan and a consequently pouty Mingyu. Hopefully this has helped.

After buying the flat, they’d spent up the last of their money on buying the enormous bed and mattress that can now happily accommodate the three of them. Seungkwan starts full-time hours at the coffee shop, even though he doesn’t need to, as he says he’s desperate to be able to decorate the place. They see right through him, of course: Seungkwan’s busybody tendencies have him itching, and waiting around to be picked up for a show is killing him. Mingyu has a more practised, familiar routine of work and auditions by now, so he’d thrilled to have it interrupted by a call one afternoon when he’s lying in the summer heat that bakes their apartment.

Hansol is startled out of the video he’s watching when he hears Mingyu yell from the living room. He jumps up and runs through, fearing the worst, only to stop in his tracks when Mingyu runs right into him and picks him up, swinging him around. Hansol laughs, surprised, and steadies himself on Mingyu’s forearms when he’s put down.

“What was that for?” he smiles.

“I got it!” Mingyu makes a shout of victory and gets down onto his knees, thanking some deity for his mysterious success.

“Got what?”

“The part!”

Mingyu’s joy hits him as if it’s his own. “That’s amazing, Mingyu! Oh my God!”

Mingyu laughs and holds his head in his hands, disbelieving. “My manager just called me about it! For real!”

“What show is it?”

“It’s a teen drama. It’s a supporting main role, I think? I’m like, the love interest you know she won’t end up with.”

“That’s a really good role, Mingyu! For your first job, wow!” Hansol brings the still kneeling Mingyu into a hug so his face is buried into Hansol’s stomach. It makes him feel the tears of joy through his shirt, and he holds the back of Mingyu’s head affectionately.  “I’m so proud of you.”

When he gets home, Seungkwan perks up immediately at the news, and they decide to have an informal celebration. They all have work the next day, but that doesn’t stop them from finishing off a bottle of whiskey and binging episodes of Jun’s drama until late into the night.

 

-

 

Jihoon and Soonyoung’s wedding is held on the last day of August, in the park that reminds Hansol of strawberry kisses. They’d been assigned to bring food and had been baking the whole day before in a sentimental notion that they should show some effort for the wedding. Despite Mingyu’s attempt at management, a batch of brownies are left in the oven for too long as they engage in a food war that leaves cake mixture on their faces and flour on every surface. Hansol laughs more than he has in a while, and it’s a cathartic day. The Victoria sponge cake, the selected substitute for a wedding cake, comes out somewhat successful at least, so they pack it up before heading to the park on the humid summers day.

Soonyoung has dyed his hair white to match the white suit he’s wearing, in order to outdo Seungkwan who had declared he was dying his hair red to go with his own suit. The ceremony commences smoothly despite their near brawl when Seungkwan sees him. Eight of the eleven guests take the variety of deck chairs collected between them and sit down in their best suits, trying to form an aisle by sitting in two groups of four. There’s a banner Minghao has strung between two trees, the area decorated with pretty confetti and some lanterns, and a sign saying SOONHOON 4EVER that must’ve been Jun’s addition. Seungkwan officiates, and Jihoon’s black hair matching his black suit makes the three of them look like a coordinated boy group. This is only compounded when Seungkwan starts singing Here Comes the Bride, despite Jihoon’s protests, as they separately walk towards him. Seungcheol walks Jihoon the whole five feet down the aisle, followed by Jeonghan, who escorts Soonyoung.  They’re getting looks from strangers in the park, but some people are stopping at a respectable distance to watch. Beside Hansol, Mingyu, Seokmin and Chan are clutching each other, trying not to giggle, Soonyoung at the front also fighting a smile as he takes Jihoon’s hands, Jeonghan going to stand off at the side. This prompts Seungkwan to start reciting the rite of marriage, as modified by himself, Soonyoung and Seokmin.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the union of Kwon Soonyoung and Lee Jihoon in blessedly gay matrimony. By the witness of your community and peers, we bless the love that binds you, and give you the strength to enter a happy and eternal marriage. Lee Jihoon, are you here without coercion, freely and wholeheartedly?”

Jihoon cocks his head in an offhand way before answering, which makes Seokmin and Chan start giggling again. “Mostly, yes.”

“Please show willingness to be married,” Seungkwan says as Soonyoung pouts at him.

Jihoon tries to repress a snort. “Yes, I am.”

“Kwon Soonyoung, are you willing to be committed to this man for the rest of your life, to have and to hold, despite your fickle tendencies?”

“I am,” Soonyoung answers with certainty.

“Are you prepared to love and honour each other as long as you both shall live, in good times and bad, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”

“I am,” they answer in unison.

Seungkwan turns to Jeonghan and Seungcheol, standing off to the side. “Please bring forward the rings.” Seungcheol comes and hands a small silver ring to Jihoon, who smiles and gently slides it onto Soonyoung’s finger; Soonyoung’s smile in response could power a city. Jeonghan does the same, and Soonyoung gently takes Jihoon’s hand to slide on an identical ring. They look at each other and Hansol wonders if they’ll ever look away.

“By the power invested in me by Janet Jackson, Cher, and Lady Gaga, I now pronounce you husband and husband. You may kiss the groom.” Seungkwan smiles wide as Jihoon and Soonyoung lean forward and meet in a sweet kiss, the crowd of eleven whooping and clapping. Jihoon flushes, and Hansol looks around to see the onlookers that had gathered also clapping politely and smiling.

Mingyu scrambles to his feet. “Please stay there! Kiss again!” He holds up his camera and starts fulfilling his role as wedding photographer. “Seungkwan! Please get out of the shot!”

They please Mingyu for a while, taking pictures in assorted groups. Eventually he ropes in a bystander to take a few group shots, some serious, some not so serious, until Jihoon announces that he’s hungry. They immediately move onto the reception: a mix of what was left of their baking session, kimchi provided by Jihoon’s mother, and an array of food platters as selected by Jeonghan. The married couple are the centre of attention to begin with, but when an impromptu rap battle about relationships put the focus on Chan and Seokmin, Hansol finds himself sat at the back of the group with Jihoon.

“How is the internship going?” Jihoon asks, and Hansol wonders how he’s is thinking of something like that on his wedding day. Maybe something of his difficulties has passed down the grapevine of their friends.

“Oh, you know how it is.” And he does. Jihoon had been given an identical internship straight out of graduation too, and Hansol doesn’t want to seem ungrateful for the same opportunity that’s led Jihoon to his dream job.

“I know how hard it is to start out with. How no one seems to have the time of day for you, or care for the degree you worked so hard for.”

Hansol looks up at him, a little hopeful. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry. It’ll get better. Don’t be afraid to push yourself into their space, make them pay attention to you. It’s part of your internship to be working with production, so you’re within your rights to annoy your manager until they give you some experience with it.”

“Is that what you did?”

Jihoon nods and rests on an elbow back on the picnic blanket, fondly watching his husband dance off against Seungkwan, getting grass stains all over his white suit. “I talked to people, got names and contacts, even if they were in the same department, same position. Just have to get your name out, you know? Kept e-mailing my boss with different compositions. Eventually something stuck, and they asked me to come into the studio to work on a track with them.”

“Downpour?” He remembers when the song had come out. They’d gathered as a group to celebrate Jihoon’s debut as a producer, and Jihoon had said _, Don’t congratulate me until I write a hit song_. At the time, he’d wondered how Jihoon could be so greedy for more: he’d already made it into the industry he’d longed for, why brush over his own achievement? Now, hearing Jihoon’s experience and having lived something similar, he gets it. He has to push himself, and keep pushing himself, to be where he wants to be. Getting the internship is a success, for sure, but only a step along the road to what he really wants, only the start of what he wants to be doing.

“Yeah. I carried on my internship, but sometimes I’d get a call to work on another piece, or one of my arrangements would get picked up. I was offered a job as soon as the placement was over.” There’s a cheer from their friends as Chan joins in the dance battle in front of them. “Put yourself out there, and someone will notice your talent.” He feels reassured by Jihoon’s gaze on him, knows he speaks with genuine faith in Hansol, and it gives him more strength than Jihoon can know.

“Thanks, Hyung. I’ll do my best.”

 

-

 

He puts his head down over the next few weeks, starts digging up old compositions and humming new melodies, scribbling lyrics on napkins when they go out to eat, in his phone when they’re lying in bed, and on one occasion, on Mingyu’s arm when they’re sat on the bus together. He doesn’t get much response despite the rigorous lunch time socialising he engages in and e-mailing what feels like everyone in Sony Music, but he persists anyway, if only to keep up his spirits.

Mingyu quits his supermarket job and starts filming his role in September. They’re of course supportive of his odd work hours and line runs every spare minute of the day, but Hansol can tell it’s wearing on Seungkwan, who goes to audition after audition, sings his heart out, and sees no results. He’s never hated his coffee shop job, but every shift seems to drain him more, some days coming back and crawling into bed to go straight to sleep before it’s even dark. Those days, Hansol knows to shut off his laptop and lie with him, giving him wordless attention as he falls asleep.

When it’s starting to get cold enough to be wearing a hat and gloves outside, he finally gets a response to one of his tracks. _I like this sound. Come up to studio 7 when you get to work today._ He only reads the e-mail when he’s already at work, sat at his desk and half-awake, so the message makes him spring up in urgency and go searching for wherever the hell studio 7 is. It takes him twenty minutes and too many staircases, but he eventually arrives, out of breath and nervous, and pushes into the room without hesitation. When the occupants turn to look at him, he realises he probably should’ve knocked.

“Chwe Hansol?” says a woman in front of him, who he realises with a start is Ahn Hyojin, a rapper and producer he’s respected for years, and he wills himself to stop staring. Next to her is only Bumzu himself, sitting in front of an array of music equipment, and looking at Hansol’s arrangement on the monitor. He snaps himself into action.

“Yes, that’s me.”

“Come and sit down. We’d like to talk about your track.”

The session goes amazingly well. Bumzu tweaks the melody, Hyojin tweaks the lyrics, and they ask to buy the rights for the song. Hansol agrees without hesitation, and has to stop himself from dancing down the hallway when he leaves the studio. He doesn’t quite manage it, and a businessman in the corridor watches his ecstatic jumping with concern.

 

 

Only Mingyu is home when he arrives back that night, basking in the glow of being wanted and appreciated by his idols, of having his work recognised and potentially distributed to an idol group in the near future. It’s still so surreal.

“No shoot today?” he asks, beaming.

Mingyu watches him from the sofa as he walks into the apartment. “No, not today. First thing tomorrow though. What’s got you so smiley?”

Hansol grins even wider. He’d wanted to tell them both at the same time, but the news comes spilling out of him in his excitement.

“One of my tracks got picked up today.” Spurred on by the energy that had been buzzing in him all day, he straddles Mingyu’s lap and leans in to kiss him deeply. When they part, Mingyu looks dizzy.

“Really?” He looks up at Hansol, gripping onto his hips to keep him steady.

“Yeah. They want to buy it.” He holds Mingyu’s face in his hands and feels powerful.

Mingyu lets out a happy gasp. “For real!” They kiss again, and a spike of feeling alights in his stomach. It’s a sensation he’s only experienced since starting dating Seungkwan: the stab of desire, a rush of lust spurred on by having Mingyu here, in his arms, so bright-eyed and happy for him. Mingyu must notice something in his gaze, because his voice is low and close.

“I’m so proud of you.” Their faces are inches from each other, and Hansol leans in for another kiss, hot and slow. He takes Mingyu’s hand from his hip and pushes his grasp down to hold his butt. Mingyu squeezes, then stands up from the sofa, walking Hansol towards the bedroom, kissing him again as they go.

 

 

Seungkwan doesn’t come home until later that night, when Mingyu has his arms wrapped around Hansol and he himself is wrapped in sleep. Hansol is still happily feeling the afterglow of his victorious day. Nothing can take away his euphoria, but it’s somewhat dimmed by the arrival of his other boyfriend, who looks about ready to drop.

“Come,” Hansol says, holding his arms out to Seungkwan, who is struggling to get his shirt off. Seungkwan slides into his arms with a quiet greeting.

“Hi. How was your day?” Despite his low mood recently, he does his best to act normal, tries not to show how his ambition and pride are eating away at him. Hansol doesn’t get a chance to respond before Seungkwan takes quick note of the situation. “Why are you so sweaty?” He props himself up to look over at a naked, sleeping Mingyu. “Ah. I see.”

“Yeah. That okay?”

Seungkwan hits him half-heartedly, snuggling back down into Hansol’s hold. “Of course it is, idiot. What brought it on?”

“Spur of courage from some good news at the internship.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. They want one of my songs.” Hansol smiles into Seungkwan’s hair, and he hears the other boy’s intake of breath.

“Oh, Hansol! That’s amazing!” he breathes, a quiet victory in the peaceful atmosphere of the bedroom.

“Yeah. I’m really excited,” he murmurs back. Nothing is said for a few minutes, and just as Hansol is starting to let sleepiness take him under, he’s startled back into attention by the feeling of Seungkwan’s body shaking in his loose hold. He pulls back and catches Seungkwan wiping his eyes furiously.

“Kwan? Babe?”

“Sorry, don’t worry about it. Sorry.”

“What is it? Tell me.” He doesn’t consider himself good at reassuring people, but Seungkwan’s quiet misery is so disconcerting that he tries to compel Seungkwan to open up by stroking at his hair, and bringing him back into a warm hold.

“I’m sorry. I’m so selfish,” he sobs, his voice cracking.

“It’s okay. Talk to me.”

Seungkwan sniffs and struggles to catch his breath. “Seokmin called me just now, when I was on the bus home. He got a part in one of the shows that start in January.”

“That’s so good!” Hansol says, and it makes Seungkwan sob again, so he promptly shuts his mouth.

“I know,” he says through tears, “I’m so happy for him.”

Hansol waits a minute for a continuation. He’s pretty sure these aren’t happy tears, so he’s not quite grasping something here. “But?”

“But it just feels like… everyone is achieving want they want. You’re all doing so well. I’m so proud, Hansol, but I also feel so jealous. I hate it but I can’t stop it. I want it too. I want it so badly.” He breaks into a fresh wave of tears and Hansol’s heart aches for him.

“It’s okay. Seriously. You have so much drive, Seungkwan. It’s normal to want success. You’ve been working so hard for it. It’ll come soon. I’m so proud of you, Boo.” He wishes he could do something, make this better, but it’s out of his hands. All he can do is hold Seungkwan, so that’s what he does, pressing kisses into his hair and hoping he’ll fall asleep.

 

 

Seungkwan sleeps in the next morning, exhausted from crying, and Hansol wakes up at an ungodly hour to accost Mingyu before his morning shoot.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“I didn’t want to make him feel any more guilty. Also, you have a stupidly early shoot. Besides, what could you have done? We can’t help him of this one.” He nurses a coffee, bleary-eyed. “But I thought I should tell you. Maybe we could do something together soon, take his mind off things?”

“That’s a good idea.” Mingyu says, putting on his coat. “I’ll get my schedule from my manager. We must have an overlap somewhere between us. We can go on that countryside trip you were talking about.”

“Maybe. We’ll do something he likes.” Hansol smiles and gestures towards the door. “You should go. Have a good day.”

“Okay. Bye. Love you.” Mingyu gives him a lingering kiss, still bright-eyed and in high spirits from the night before.

“Love you too,” Hansol says, and Mingyu gives him a last happy wave before shutting the apartment door behind him.

 

-

 

As it turns out, their schedules cross over for a whole weekend not long later, after they convince Seungkwan to take some time off. They can’t go far, because Mingyu has an early morning shoot on Monday morning, but after browsing Naver Hansol finds a countryside cottage an hour’s drive away, with reviews that promise sights of the stars. They rent a car, even though Hansol hasn’t driven since he was a teenager, but the difficulty of map-reading works in their favour when it leads them to stop at a pleasant old village for directions. There they find a huge confectionary story next in a quaint street of shops, which keeps them entertained for most of the afternoon, Seungkwan’s mood being lifted exponentially by the array of bbopki and other candy on offer.

Adequately stocked up on food (and candy) for their overnight stay in the cottage, they set out again, finally finding the place as it’s getting dark. They immediately dump their bags and wrap up to face the November chill, grabbing the Mingyu-prepared flashlights and heading up the hill behind the cottage. Seungkwan grasps onto their hands during the walk up and asks them to remind him why this is a good idea as they sweat under coats and scarves and gloves. When they find a clear patch of grass to lie on, though, Seungkwan goes quiet, joining them in looking at the sprinkling of lights across a swooping black sky. There’s nothing around them but the occasional rustle of leaves or hoot of an owl, and the serenity is exactly what Hansol had craved when he’d suggested this. He points out the only constellation he knows, Orion’s Belt, and Seungkwan points out the only one he knows, the Big Dipper.

“This reminds me of Jeju,” Mingyu says eventually.

Seungkwan makes a noise of agreement. “You can always see the stars from the cliffs.”

“You should take me there next time we go back,” Hansol says, longingly. “I’ve always lived near cities, so I don’t see them often. They’re beautiful.”

“Ah, how did we fall in love with a city boy?” Seungkwan says, nudging Mingyu. “They don’t know the finer pleasures of life.”

“He’d never had a proper hallabong before meeting us,” Mingyu agrees. “How did we fall in with his type? Shall we ditch him and elope?”

“God, please,” Seungkwan replies. “I’ve been waiting to be rid of him.”

In response, Hansol rolls over and clings to Seungkwan’s side. “You’ll never be rid of me. We’re in this for life.” He blindly gropes over Seungkwan’s other side until he finds Mingyu’s arm, and grips onto him too.

“Oh no,” Mingyu says sarcastically, “we’re trapped now. Whatever will we do?”

 

 

Sometime later Mingyu lets out a snore that makes the other two burst into laughter and jolts Mingyu back to wakefulness. It’s an indication that it’s time to get back inside, they think, and when they enter the cottage again Mingyu sets about heating up some soup for dinner to combat their numb fingers and cold cheeks. Hansol busies himself with setting the table as Seungkwan hovers at the edge of the room. Uncertainty doesn’t suit Seungkwan, so Hansol waits patiently for him to come out with whatever it is he needs to say. It doesn’t take long, the words springing from him as he sits in a chair at the kitchen table.

“I got an offer from a theatre company.”

Mingyu freezes, one hand on a bowl, the other on the pot of soup. Hansol comes to sit beside him at the table, examining Seungkwan’s expression. His tone is flat, unhappy, wrong.

“That’s so good, Seungkwan,” he says cautiously. “Why aren’t you excited?”

“I’m not taking it,” he says, firm, looking between them. “I didn’t want to tell you, but I know you’ve planned this day for my benefit. I can’t be dishonest with you. But don’t try and convince me to take it, because I’m not changing my mind.”

Hansol is confused, and Mingyu isn’t faring much better. “Why don’t you want to take it? What’s wrong with it?” He sets the pot and bowl on the table, sitting down across from them to give Seungkwan his full attention.

“It’s with the Korean Travelling Theatre Company.”

This doesn’t mean much to Hansol, but Mingyu sits back, blown away. “Seungkwan! They’re—that’s—what do you mean you don’t want to take the offer? They’re so prestigious!”

“It’s a travelling company, Mingyu. They move around all over Korea. They’re famous—they’re amazing—but it’s because they’re so productive and intense. Shows all the time, rehearsals and recitals and practises all the time. I would have to move with them all over the country. They go to parts of LA and Russia and China and God knows where else too.” He looks between them again, willing them to understand. “We’ve been together for what—eight or nine months? I can’t go running around the country.” He crosses his arms as if daring them to disagree with him.

Hansol takes up the challenge. “Yes, you can.”

Seungkwan looks at him sharply. “No, I can’t, and you shouldn’t feel bad about it. You’re not the ones holding me back. I don’t want to leave you guys. It’s my choice, not your fault.”

“You can still be with us and be across the country, you know. Or even across the world,” Hansol shoots back. “I know you and Mingyu have lived, like, five seconds from each other your whole life, but maybe that’s exactly the reason you should go. I know distance is hard for you, but you’re so young, Seungkwan. This is the opportunity of a lifetime.” Seungkwan meets his gaze, and Hansol holds it. “It might be hard, but all things worth having are hard.”

Seungkwan looks at him in silence, and Mingyu speaks up. “He’s right, Kwan.” Seungkwan turns to look at him too, but without an argument, just listening. “Let me look at your contract. It’s probably just for a year, right? You should do it. Go with them for a year. Live your dream. If you hate it, you can come back to us in a year’s time. Having experience with a company like that could get you a job anywhere you wanted afterwards. A small part of your life to help you do whatever you like in the long run.”

Seungkwan is chewing on the inside of his mouth and looking between them. “I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if I want to.”

“All the more reason to try, at least. My parents were living in different countries for a while before they were married, you know,” Hansol supplies. “Defeating your fear is possible. Long distance relationships are possible. We’ll come see you whenever we can, and we’ll still be here when you can come back, or when you decide to leave the company.”

“How do you both know me so well?” Seungkwan whines, putting his face in his hands.

“It’s kind of our job, babe,” Hansol says, with a little relief. He was coming around. “When do you have to get back to them?”

“I have until Wednesday. The contract starts in January.”

“Then you have until Wednesday to think about it,” Mingyu says, happy with an optimistic resolution.

“For the record, if you think it would kill you, don’t do it. But it would be an amazing experience for you. We’re supportive of you whatever you choose.” Hansol puts a hand on Seungkwan’s, and this seems to be the last straw for him, as he bursts into tears.

“I was so determined to not be swayed by you. Why do you make so much sense?” he sobs, rubbing at his eyes. Mingyu pushes a bowl of soup in front of him.

“It’s our talent,” he says, without a hint of irony. “Eat your soup so you don’t dehydrate from the tears.”

Seungkwan whines but picks up the spoon in compliance, spooning soup into his mouth as he sniffles quietly.

 

 

The bed is just big enough and plenty soft enough. Hansol learns that night that sex with two people is double the work of sex with one, but also double the pleasure. The stars watch them make love, and the sunrise witnesses them sleep, a tangle of arms and legs, pliant bodies and content minds.

 

-

 

The first month of Seungkwan’s contract goes very smoothly, namely because he’s able to stay at home. The company is based in their city to prepare for the first tour, so he’s able to come home every night and gush about the rehearsals and his colleagues and the meetings of the day, buzzing with the excitement of being in a real, national-level musical of his dreams, even if he only has a supporting role.

The second month is hell. Seungkwan calls home often twice or three times a day: Hansol as he’s getting ready in the morning; Mingyu as he’s on lunch break; video calls to them both in the evenings. They both accommodate for him and his desperate homesickness, but it’s difficult when it’s accompanied by Seungkwan breaking down into tears at least once a week. Every call is a rollercoaster ride of Seungkwan’s highs over new details of the day, Mingyu’s new auditions and Hansol’s occasional news from work, and Seungkwan’s lows of teary goodbyes and wishes goodnight. It’s especially hard on Hansol’s birthday, when Seungkwan is trying so hard to keep up a happy façade, but they can all tell how badly he wants to be there, giving him birthday cuddles and his present in person.

By the third month, he’s adjusted a little, reduces his calls to once a day, stops crying so much down the phone. Hansol puts it down to the fact that he finally seems to have clicked with his castmates, the majority of whom are older and more experienced than him, and is able to go to them for the social contact and attention he craves. He starts getting free days here and there, and travels back to spend them at home for odd nights, giving them a chance to celebrate their first anniversary together. When Seungkwan cries, it’s finally with happy tears.

In April, he has two days off before the company fly to LA, so he comes back home for Mingyu’s early birthday celebration. He hugs them like it’s been years, but the spark of passion Hansol had missed since Seungkwan’s graduation is back, colouring his skin with a healthy glow and lighting fire in his eyes, and Hansol knows that this is all worth it. They make him promise to send lots of pictures of LA, and send him off with lots of kisses at the airport. The fact that Seungkwan encourages this in front of his cast members gives Hansol faith in the people his boyfriend is travelling with. It doesn’t make it any easier to say goodbye again, though.

The real respite comes in summer, when Seungkwan has a string of shows based in their city, and comes back to stay at home for a full two weeks. Hansol is picked up by his boyfriends after his usual internship work hours, Seungkwan pouncing on him without holding back so that they both end up on the floor of Sony Music’s reception. Hansol just laughs and clutches onto him, not caring who sees.

They go for food and then karaoke together to celebrate Seungkwan’s return, which he supposes is a good time to tell them. Seungkwan and Mingyu are belting out chorus of a Girls Generation song, complete with choreography as Hansol watches on.

“Gee gee gee gee baby baby baby!” Seungkwan yells into the microphone, dancing around and trying to pull Hansol up, who knows enough of the choreography to join in with them. They both cheer with appreciation and finish the lyrics, Seungkwan getting up on the table to end the song with flair. As the notes of the song die out, Hansol says,

“Sony offered me a job today.”

The speed with which Mingyu and Seungkwan turn to look at him is comical. Hansol puts his arms out to stop Seungkwan from falling off the table, but the boy instead just leaps onto him, full bodied. Mingyu screams into the microphone, jumping up and down, and Hansol appreciates the enaction of his own feelings from the both of them.

“Watch out, music industry! Our boyfriend is about to take over!” Seungkwan yells, adrenaline filled from the news and previous energetic singing.

“It’s only a Junior Supervisor role, and I don’t start until the internship is finished. I won’t be hands on yet, but it’s a proper job in music. It’s a start.”

“It’s the start of your prolific career, Hansol,” Mingyu says, his canines poking out of a broad smile.

Seungkwan types ‘Congratulations’ into the karaoke search system and selects the first song that comes up. Hansol doesn’t know it, but he dances along to Seungkwan’s zealous singing anyway, and they fill the room with their elation.

 

 

The next day is a Saturday, so they don’t leave the house for the entire day. This is partially out of a desire to see each other and only each other, and partially a preparation ritual for the airing of Mingyu’s first TV appearance that evening. They set up blankets and snacks and settle into the sofa early, as if preparing for a stakeout, ready to catch actor Mingyu in action. When the show begins, Mingyu has a place in the opening credits, which makes them all yell out in appreciation. The show is something Hansol would have no interest in, usually: Mingyu is playing a high school student, charming and beautiful and pursued by the lead female character, even as the lead male tries to catch her attention. The script makes him curl up on the sofa in a constant state of cringe, but the rush of seeing Mingyu on screen, Seungkwan’s jubilant exclaims after every one of Mingyu’s lines, makes it worth it. Mingyu, of course, can barely watch, and tries to hide behind a cushion whilst simultaneously monitoring every second of the show for the whole hour it airs.

When it’s over, he exhales and flops onto the sofa like he was holding his breath the whole time, but his face is scrunched up in satisfaction at his work. Hansol is already on twitter, typing in the name of Mingyu’s character.

“Just as expected,” he says over Seungkwan’s torrent of pleased teasing. “You caught people’s eye, Mingyu. It’ll be no time before another role.”

Sure enough, there’s a stream of tweets about Mingyu’s looks, his character’s allure, questions of who exactly Kim Mingyu is and where he’s been all this time. Mingyu beams as he scrolls through Hansol’s phone, despite Seungkwan holding onto his arm and shaking him back and forth.

“The nation’s heartthrob, Kim Mingyu! Just you wait, you’ll be on posters before you know it!” he’s saying, which causes Mingyu to make a strangled noise that Hansol supposes must be the sound of years of work, finally released. He can see Mingyu’s phone pinging with messages, support from friends streaming in, and he thinks his heart can’t grow any more.

 

 

He’s wrong, he finds, when he’s sat in the crowd at a Korean Travelling Theatre Company production, watching Seungkwan sing his heart out, his voice reverberating around the theatre, and Hansol’s heart feels like it could explode right out of his chest with pride. There’s something about seeing Seungkwan on a stage: it’s like he’s come home, like he was born there and he’ll die there, always coming back to his first love of music. The crowd clap appreciatively as he and the actress opposite him finish their song. He and Mingyu take it a step further by standing up and whistling, the embarrassment overridden by the importance of letting Seungkwan know how proud they are, how good he is, how much this journey they’re on is worth it. He thinks it’s conveyed when he sees Seungkwan catch his eye just as the lights go down, cheeks full with the smile he’s trying to prevent from bursting into a full-blown laugh.

 

-

 

“We’re supposed to be meeting them in ten minutes!” Seungkwan calls out warningly across the apartment. Hansol is sat on the lowered toilet lid, staying patiently still as Mingyu carefully paints a rainbow on each cheek, matching with himself and Seungkwan.

“Yeah!” Mingyu calls back absently. “Do you want anything else?” he asks Hansol as he stands back to assess his work.

He shakes his head. “This is good.” He stands to look at himself in the mirror: small rainbow flags on each cheek that lift when he smiles.

Seungkwan enters the bathroom to hasten them on. “If we’re the last ones there, Seungcheol will berate us about it for the whole afternoon.”

They arrive at the street corner just on time, but are still the last ones there, which causes Seungcheol to ask,

“Do you not have a watch between the three of you?” as if he’s some sort of disappointed teacher. Seungkwan shoots Hansol a look, and he tries to suppress a smile in return.

Soonyoung is already leading the group through to the main street, which is bustling with music and noise. “Let’s go, everyone! It started already!”

When they push through the crowd to get to the heart of the parade, Hansol is amazed by the size of it. He knows pride has been happening in Korea for some years now, but it was still hard to imagine people would turn out in these sorts of numbers. A huge float covered in feathers and glittering decorations carry a group of drag queens, who wave at the crowd and dance to the music coming out of the sound system. Crowds of people are singing, are covered in glitter, holding pride flags, dressed in sequins or bright clothes or waving banners. The thirteen of them slide into the procession, easily being pulled into the energy of the crowd. A group of girls see him grinning, looking around at the sights, and pull him into their dancing circle of friends. He’s more than happy to take their hands and let himself be twirled to the beat of the music.

He dances and sings and moves between the crowds of people, catching glimpses of his friends and the sights of some unique, beautiful people. Seungkwan finds him again at one point, presses a drink into his hand, telling him to drink up, it’s warm out! He does so, even though the sweat and the heat doesn’t bother him. It can’t take him away from the solidarity he feels with this crowd, the knowledge that they have faced the same questions and come to the same answers: here is where happiness is. Being yourself, and being with the ones you love, no matter how much you need to work for it.

Hands grasp his shoulders and press down on him, and he turns to find Mingyu jumping on the toes of his feet like an excitable child.

“It’s your song!” he’s shouting, and Hansol looks at him without understanding.

Seungkwan comes squeezing through the crowd followed by the rest of their friends. “Hansol! It’s A-Teen!” He and Seokmin cling onto him, Minghao joining Mingyu in jumping up and down in glee.

Then, his ears tune into the song the drag queens are currently twerking to: the float ahead has started playing his song, the track that got him his first recognition at Sony, the obscure little B-side he’s so proud of. It blows his mind, that they’re playing it here of all places, and Seungkwan laughs at him, stood there frozen. Mingyu starts yelling out the lyrics enthusiastically.

“When I look to the side, I see you standing next to me, giving me courage,” he sings, and it prompts the rest of their friends to join in. There aren’t many people around them that seem to know the song, but he doesn’t really care, radiant with the power of his friends and their love.

“Eighteen, right now, this might be my everything!” Seungkwan choruses, and Chan has managed to climb onto Jun’s shoulders to get maximum attention from the crowd around them.

“You make my heart pound, this strange feeling seems like it’ll be my first and last, because of you!” Hansol sings, grasping Mingyu and Seungkwan’s hands in a victory cheer as the song climaxes. He looks at them and knows that he’s able to have this forever, knows that he’ll release more music and make them prouder, knows he can love them for as long as he wants. Most importantly, he knows that right now he’s here, with them, and that nothing could be more valuable. He shines when he has Mingyu and Seungkwan by his side, and he thinks that the three of them could be the brightest stars in the sky, one day overlooking the world they’ve conquered.

 

**Author's Note:**

> wow, you got to the end! nice one!
> 
> thank you for reading this work, it's been my baby for a while now and i'm nervous to release it into the world. if you enjoyed, please leave me a kudos or especially a comment, they make my day!
> 
> please note! i did not do super extensive research for a lot of the topics included in this fic, including: epilepsy & disability; the entertainment industry & performing arts schools; korean geography/careers sector, etc, etc. if you noticed any inaccuracies or any insensitivities that need to be edited, please do let me know!  
> i do however owe [this wonderful fic series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/569668) a shoutout as inspiration for and the portrayal of an epileptic character <3
> 
> hit me up on twitter if you want to chat! [@hope_boos](https://twitter.com/hope_boos)  
> you can rt this fic [here!](https://twitter.com/hope_boos/status/1121169227099136000)
> 
> have a good day/night ^_^


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